A Very Frozen Musical
by Marzos
Summary: Two sisters decide they want to make Elsa's story into a musical. Lots of meta humor ensues along with awkwardness as the four learn to get along during the process. Hope you enjoy!
1. Prologue

Looking at the two walking into Arendelle, one might never guess that they were related, let alone sisters.

The older of the two walked at a leisurely pace, hands clasped behind her back. Looking at her unwashed but neatly kept hair and clothing, she looked to be someone who took great pride in her appearance but lacked the funds to properly care for it. Her hazel eyes scanned the crowds with an intensity that seemed to dare passerby to question why she was in the state she was—small cuts marring her heart shaped face, a small bag slung over her shoulder and filled to bursting with papers. The papers didn't belong to her though—they belonged to the person she was traveling with.

"Slow down Eleanor," she called out to the person ahead of her. "This bag is heavy."

The person slowed down slightly, but stayed ahead of her. "Michelle, I want to find a place to _eat_."

"Slow down." Her voice was soft, but firm. Eleanor finally assented to her order, stopping and only continuing when Michelle caught up.

"I am _hungry_," she said again, groaning and clutching her stomach dramatically. She shook her head, throwing her frizzy strawberry blond hair out of her eyes. Unlike her companion, she seemed to have embraced the wild, unkempt look that came from being poor rather than trying to fight it. She walked stiffly, as though it took all her willpower not to break out into a run again.

"I'm thinking, sis," Michelle answered.

"About what?"

"How we're going to eat when we don't have a lot of money." She looked at her. "Any ideas?"

"You're the one that's good at that stuff."

She sighed. "Alright, here's our dilemma," she said. "We have enough money for one night in an inn—one night mind you, not any more. Or we have enough to eat food. Bear in mind, this would be the first time we slept in an actual bed in a few weeks, since we ended up having to hike all the way to…what is this place called, Arendelle?...so, which would it be?"

"Food." Eleanor answered immediately. "We've been eating nothing but acorns and blueberries."

Michelle sighed. "I'm going to have to agree with you. It's doesn't look like it's going to rain tonight anyway…" they found a café, with tables set up outside. Michelle looked to it and back at her sister pointedly, and Eleanor squealed in delight, sitting down.

They ordered their meals, Michelle telling her in no uncertain terms that chocolate cake was not the best choice of food when you did not know when you would be eating again. She grumbled choice words under her breath but finally settled on a sandwich.

"So what do we do now 'Chelle?" Eleanor asked. She pushed her chair back, picking up the guitar she had leaned against the table. She began tuning it as Michelle spoke.

"I don't know. Eleanor, I don't know if this career choice we had is working…"

"What? Are you kidding? I love this! Besides, we're famous, aren't we?"

"No," Michelle answered, "My _work_ is famous. And we barely make a dime off of it. It's ridiculous!"

"They called the last play you did 'a masterpiece of theatre' when they reviewed it."

"And now it's three weeks later and we've spent all the money we earned on it."

"That's why they call it a 'starving artist'. Eleanor said flippantly. "Maybe I can see if any pubs around here need live entertainment. I can usually make a hundred bucks in tips." She leaned in close to her sister.

"What your problem is," Eleanor continued, "Is, forgive me for saying this sis, but your plays are _boring_. It's all this high-brow philosophical literate stuff."

"That's what I'm good at writing," Michelle answered indignantly, "And they get excellent reviews."

"Yeah, by snobby critics," Eleanor answered. "What was your last play called? 'The House at the Foot of the Hill' or something? The reviewer called it 'an excellent review of the fragility of the human condition'. What does that even _mean_?"

Michelle blushed, but didn't answer, taking a bite out of her food.

"I told you what you should try," Eleanor continued.

"And I told you no, Eleanor. Musicals are silly."

"Musicals are silly _and_ they almost always sell out."

"They're a fad—they rely purely on gimmick. They may be seeing a resurgence of popularity right now, but they'll fade into obscurity soon enough."

"And so will us." Eleanor answered. Michelle stayed silent again for a moment.

"I don't know how to write music."

"I do! You don't give me enough credit. I've been dying for a way to get my music out there. I'll do that, you write the story. We'll both be doing what we do best."

Michelle sighed. It was true; ever since they were young the two sisters had aspirations of making money doing creative work. Eleanor had taught herself to play pretty much any instrument she could get her hands on—some better than others, guitar and piano being her specialties.

Michelle would shut herself in her room and write stories—at first it was escapist fiction, like a diary. Stuff where their parents hadn't died and they weren't raised in an orphanage. But when Michelle realized she had a talent for writing things, she had realized it was the key to her and Eleanor breaking out of the poverty that followed most orphans when they became too old and were kicked out to deal with the world on their own.

Now, two years since she Michelle had turned eighteen and took her sister with her, things hadn't worked out quite how she hoped. She was, frankly, _desperate_.

"What would I write about?" Michelle finally answered. "Musicals and plays need to be written differently. And I guess my subject needs to be a bit more…accessible."

Eleanor's answer was interrupted by trumpets blasting. The restaurant they had chosen was close to the castle of Arendelle, and the sisters both turned their heads toward the trumpet players. Standing inside the open gates, a young woman stood with her arms held out.

"Are you all ready?" she asked. A crowd had gathered, and they cheered. With a wave her arms ice appeared on the ground.

Eleanor almost choked on her food. "People here have _ice powers_?"

"Excuse me," Michelle said, tapping a waiter on the shoulder. "But who is that? The one that made it…um…snow, I suppose."

"That's Queen Elsa," the waiter answered, as though she was stupid for not knowing. The two left without leaving him a tip—not that they had one to give.

"I think I heard of her," Eleanor said. "Before we left the last town I saw it in a newspaper. Apparently she caused a huge blizzard or something. Then she ran up a mountain."

"What made her come back?"

"Don't know, I think her sister teamed up with some guy and chased her down. And there was a prince involved, whatever." She wrinkled her brow in thought. "You know, I don't quite remember exactly…"

Michelle looked in the queen's direction. She closed her eyes, picturing it; a blizzard ravaging a kingdom. A girl making a dangerous trek up the mountain to find her sister. Surely an adventure like that would captivate an audience?

"Eleanor," she said, grabbing her sister's arm. "You want to do a musical? I think I just had an idea."


	2. Gaps in the Story

"Michelle, I'm impressed," Eleanor said to her sister as they lay out in the street.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Normally I'm the one with the stupid ideas."

Michelle hit Eleanor on the shoulder with her bag. Papers flew out of the satchel, parchment on which was written sheet music in barely legible handwriting.

"Hey! Don't take it out on the music." Eleanor hastily scooped up the papers, trying her best to put them in the correct order. "You can't be serious anyways, right?"

"I have never been more serious," Michelle answered adamantly. "Eleanor, look at us. We are currently sleeping in the middle of the street—"

"Not true. The side of the street. If it was the middle we'd get run over by a horse."

"Nevertheless! We're in dire straits. At least when we were in the orphanage we got fed once a day."

"You call cold, unseasoned oatmeal food?"

"_Not the point_," Michelle answered, giving her sister a death glare. "You can't deny that this wasn't what we planned."

"Yeah, but your idea has tons of logistical issues. You want to make a musical about the Queen of Arendelle."

"Absolutely. I already have a great title too. 'The Snow Queen'—"

"But how do you suggest we make it look like the actress is doing all that weird ice magic?"

"Lighting," Michelle said with a flick of her hand. "Colored lights, or sound effects, whatever. We'll think of something. But just think about it Elle. A princess who can control ice and snow, horribly misunderstood by her subjects; she runs away for their safety only to be shown that the only thing she needs to control her powers is love."

"Honestly, it sounds kind of ridiculous when you put it that way…"

"Maybe, but audiences will love it," Michelle answered, getting more excited the longer she spoke. "It's perfect! We can put it on right here in Arendelle—who won't come to see a play about their own rulers? We would make a killing. It'd be sold out every night."

Eleanor mused over it for a moment.

"I would love to write a musical," she finally answered. "It would be awesome. I mean, I'm willing to write music if you're willing to write it. At the end of the day if it doesn't get made we didn't end up any worse off, right?"

"Exactly!" Michelle answered. "There's just…well, one problem."

"Considering how you're ignoring all the other ones, this must be pretty huge. What is it?"

"There are huge gaps in what we know about it. Not just us, but everyone in Arendelle. I mean, I've been trying to piece it together and it's kind of bizarre."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, here's what I got: one," she held up one finger. "Queen Elsa freaks out at her coronation and accidentally does some sort of ice magic. Apparently no one, not even her sister, knew she was able to do that.

Two: she runs away, plunging the kingdom into what we would assume would be an eternal winter if she hadn't been able to stop it later.

Three: the princess runs away on a horse to get her to come back. They end up sending a rescue party after them. Queen Elsa is captured.

Four: Everything ends up going back to normal, except she has total control over her ice powers. That's what happens."

Eleanor's eyebrows shot up. "Everything goes back to normal? As in…?"

"That's the weird part. No one knows exactly what happened, because a gigantic blizzard kept people from seeing three feet in front of their face. Only two other guys were there besides the sisters; one teamed up with Princess Anna and is dating her now apparently. He hasn't said anything. The other was jailed in his homeland for treason. Apparently he tried to kill Queen Elsa. She hasn't said what stopped him, only that Anna 'saved her life'. Oh, and their advisors thought Anna had died. No word on how they got _that_ wrong."

"So…" Eleanor twisted a lock of hair in her fingers. "In between three and four, Queen Elsa escaped from jail, Anna returned to Arendelle with a very large, manly blond guy. Someone chased after the queen to murder her, only to somehow be foiled by her sister, who miraculously rose from the dead. Who managed to stop the much stronger, larger man wielding a sword? And somehow, after all of that, Queen Elsa discovers how to control her powers and makes it as though nothing ever happened?"

Michelle nodded. "Yes, exactly. I have no idea how to fill in those gaps either…"

"We could talk to them," Eleanor suggested. "You know, ask them for help. An interview or something. I mean, I'd feel kind of bad making a musical about someone without letting them know anyway…"

"Are we just walking into their throne room dressed like this and expecting them to talk to us?" Michelle asked, tugging a sleeve of her grimy shirt for emphasis. "We look like bums. Because we actually _are_ bums, now that I think about it."

"You'll think of something," Eleanor answered adamantly. "You always do."

"Well—" She stopped talking; Eleanor didn't ask why because she knew. It sounded like several people were walking in their direction. It wasn't best to draw attention to yourself when you were sleeping on the ground. They'd been in cities where some of the more unsavory locales made a hobby out of kicking homeless people while they were sleeping.

"I don't know Elsa," a man's voice said, "It was nice of you to take Anna and me out, but I didn't really like the show…"

Eleanor gave Michelle a look like, 'is this actually happening?' Michelle shrugged. It was too dark to see in the dark, but there was no way it was a coincidence that a girl named Anna was walking home with someone with Elsa; it had to be the royal sisters.

"You both just didn't understand it," said the third voice. Calm and measured, it was clear that it belonged to Queen Elsa. "I thought it was beautiful. I'm surprised more people haven't seen 'The House at the Foot of the Hill.' I've heard it's been getting excellent reviews in Weselton."

Michelle's back was turned to the group, and she stared at her sister in shock. Eleanor put a hand over her mouth. She'd forgotten that the show was going on tour; she'd never asked where it was going after Weselton.

"Did you know that the woman who wrote it is only twenty years old?" Elsa continued. "This was her fifth play—I wish I had a chance to see the others. I've heard Michelle Belmonte's other work is just as good."

"Yeah, if you like to be put to sleep," the man pointed out. The two sisters both laughed a little at the comment, and then finally they were out of earshot.

"Oh. My. God." Eleanor finally said.

"I know," Michelle breathed.

"She _liked_ that show?"

"Eleanor!"  
"Oh, and yeah, it's kind of cool that Queen Elsa is a fan of your stuff. Well, the one thing at least." She yawned. "But it's probably time for bed, right? I'll let you keep the bag this time."

"Sure." Michelle answered. She took the bag of papers and placed it under her head, a makeshift pillow, staring up at the sky. Eleanor, meanwhile, fell asleep almost instantly, clutching her guitar like a teddy bear.

Michelle didn't fall asleep right away. She couldn't help but think about what she had heard. A queen, _royalty_, had said she thought her play was beautiful.

Sure, her sister thought it was boring as mud, but who cared about the princess's opinion when she had an endorsement from the queen? This wasn't a decrepit old man who wrote for a newspaper. For once it was someone who _mattered_.

She wanted this to happen more often. To hear people in the street, talking about her work; to be recognized. She imagined what would happen if The Snow Queen became a real show. Every person in Arendelle would see it. Michelle and Eleanor Belmonte would become a household name.

"I will get this show made if it's the last thing I do," she promised to herself, drifting off into sleep.


	3. An Audience with the Queen

"Well Michelle, since you didn't think of a plan, I have." Eleanor said, leading her sister through the gates of the castle. Michelle looked unconvinced.

"They just let people through the gates?" Michelle asked. "And how are all these ice sculptures not…right. Magical ice woman. I guess nothing about this makes complete sense."

"I think they just open them to let people walk through the grounds," Eleanor answered. "They don't just let you walk into the castle. Speaking of which, there's the doors."

They both stopped for a moment. Two very large, burly guards armed with crossbows guarded them.

"So Eleanor, what's your brilliant plan?" Michelle said. "Ask politely?"

Eleanor gave her sister a wink. "Just follow my lead," Eleanor answered, "And just back up everything I say aggressively."

"Wait, you mean our plan actually _is_ to—" Michelle began, but it was too late. Eleanor waltzed up to the doors to the castle, pulling Michelle with her.

"Good morning gentlemen!" Eleanor said, giving a wave. "My sister and I came to see Queen Elsa. May we come in?"

The guards stared at the two vagabonds, and immediately lifted their crossbows. "Queen Elsa is not expecting visitors today, please leave at once."

Michelle tried to do just that, but her sister grabbed her arm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Eleanor said, shaking her head. "She didn't tell you? She's been expecting us! I'll have you know that this lady right here," Eleanor pulled Michelle next to her, putting an arm around her. "Is my sister, none other than acclaimed playwright Michelle Belmonte!" she elbowed her in the ribs.

"Uh—yes. Yes I am." _Eleanor if they don't shoot us I will _kill _you._

The guards looked at each other. "The Queen never said she was expecting a visit from anyone today." One of them said again, "And you certainly don't look like the type of visitors she'd get."

Eleanor put a hand over her heart. "The nerve of you people!" she shouted indignantly. "If we were two crazy people, as you're implying, don't you think we'd be trying to find a way to sneak in? If she's not expecting us, do you think we'd just walk up to the guards and ask them to come inside? We're not _idiots_, you know."

"If she didn't tell you, clearly she just forgot—we met very late last night," Michelle interjected, "And I'll have you know that—as you can probably see from the state we're in—we went through a very large ordeal to get here." She puffed up her chest. "I am frankly insulted."

"Exactly!" Eleanor said, beaming at her sister. "Why, I'll have you know that…"

The next ten minutes were Eleanor describing, in great detail, how they got to Arendelle. Apparently, according to her, they had been held up by bandits, only getting away through Eleanor's valiant efforts (using her guitar as a club). Now without transportation or money, they trekked through the mountains and woodlands, almost getting eaten by a bear, mountain lion, and a pack of wolves (in that order). Then they stumbled into Arendelle only last night to attend the opening of Michelle's play; she described in detail how Elsa had met them afterward and said it was the most moving piece of theatre she had even witnessed, and hearing of their plight, offered to allow them a short stay in the castle wherein they could get fresh clothes, food, and Michelle could discuss the show with her in more detail.

Michelle didn't dare interject, as Eleanor admittedly had outdone herself; she had always been an excellent actress. She settled for nodding vigorously and giving a very firm 'yes' whenever Eleanor turned to her.

"So," Eleanor finally finished, "If you don't want to let us in, fine. But if I were Queen Elsa I'd be quite angry if I found out the guards turned away the writer of my favorite play—and her sister." She crossed her arms, staring at the guards with a smug expression.

If they succeeded in doing anything, they definitely succeeded in making the guards very, very confused. They looked at each other, shifting in place awkwardly. A small crowd was slowly moving in, wondering why two homeless looking people were shouting animatedly at the guards.

"It's not like we can't just take them out if she doesn't recognize them…" one guard said to the other. "And this is starting to be a bit embarrassing." They moved away from the doors.

"We'll take you in," they said, "But we'll be right outside their door, and if we hear anything—"

"YES!" Eleanor grabbed her sister, following them inside.

"Eleanor, that was brilliant." Michelle whispered. "I think. You confused them so much that they'd rather risk us being assassins than listen to us keep talking."

"Oh please," Eleanor answered, "They wouldn't think that anyway. I sounded way too stupid to be an assassin—that's the key."

"Can't argue with that." Michelle said, eliciting an elbow in the ribs. She was about to say something else when they were suddenly stopped in front of two large doors.

"Wait here," one guard said.

"What, we aren't going in?" Eleanor asked.

"We're going in first," the other said, "And asking Queen Elsa if she's expecting you."

The doors closed on them, leaving them to wait in the hall alone.

"Well, crap." Eleanor said after a moment. "Did not anticipate that." She sat, cross-legged, on the ground.

"Eleanor, what are you _doing_?"

"Waiting. That's all we can do, right?"

"Once they talk to her we'll get…get…thrown in jail or something!"

Eleanor shrugged. "If we run and they catch us that'll be worse, right?"

Michelle couldn't argue. She tried to satisfy her curiosity by pressing her ear to the door, but it was too thick to hear what went on inside. She couldn't help but find consider it a bad omen when the door was pushed open while she pressed against it, knocking her to the ground.

"The Queen…" the guard said, looking shocked, "Would like you to come in, and apologizes for the wait."

"…What?" Michelle asked, blinking the stars from her eyes. Eleanor grabbed her, pulling her up.

"Come on sis," Eleanor whispered excitedly, and they were pulled inside the throne room.

The room was large and open, nothing occupying it except for a few ice statues—Michelle couldn't help but think she might be overdoing it a little with all the ice sculptures everywhere—and of course, the two thrones that were occupied by the princesses.

Michelle tried her best to look presentable, straightening out the wrinkles in her clothes and combing her fingers through her hair. She wasn't scared however; she'd sold five plays before this, trying to convince wealthy nobles to back her work. She had done it before looking like this, and she could do it again.

"Your Majesties," the guard said, bowing. It was Elsa who spoke.

"You can wait outside," she told him. He nodded stiffly, leaving; obviously he didn't think this was a smart idea.

"So…" Elsa started, "Obviously you both have a lot of explaining to do."

Michelle took a deep breath, preparing to speak; then she froze. She hadn't realized just how much she had invested herself into this musical idea. Now that she finally got here, she had no idea what to say.

"Uh, well…" she took another breath, stalling for time. "As they must have told you, I am Michelle Belmonte."

"I know. I actually saw your play last night."

"I know, we heard you talking about it." Michelle answered. When Elsa's eyebrows shot up, she backtracked, turning a shade of crimson.

"I mean—we weren't doing it on purpose. As in, we weren't eavesdropping. We just happened to be there—"

"Sleeping on the side of the street." Eleanor interjected, clarifying it. "We had no money for an inn."

Elsa's gaze softened. Before she could continue, her sister interrupted.

"That's horrible!" she said, putting a hand over her mouth.

The two nodded solemnly, Michelle biting her cheek.

"Yes, it does," Elsa agreed. "Well, as you can imagine, I was quite surprised when the guards came in and said we had visitors."

Michelle nodded.

"Especially when they described you two as 'half-starved, destitute and raving nonsense'." She shook her head. "Normally I would have told them to see you out—but, when they told me who you were, I thought it was awful that someone with such beautiful writing was still forced to live that way. Would like to talk over dinner?"

Michelle swallowed her pride and tried to look grateful; she hated being pitied. She'd been treated this way her entire life. First she was the poor orphan, now the poor penniless starving artist.

But if it was what it took to talk to them, she'd play the part. "Absolutely," she answered, clutching her stomach. "We would be honored."

Eleanor, ever the graceful one, simply shouted "FOOOOD!" and ran into what she thought might be the general direction of the kitchens.


	4. Elsa is Not Amused

Dinner was odd, to say the least.

Michelle tried her best to sell her idea. She let Eleanor do most of the talking, and in between huge spoonfuls of soup and mashed potatoes she talked animatedly of their plans. Michelle, for her part, would calmly interject to clarify things whenever her sister got so excited that she was hard to understand.

"What we want to do," Eleanor said, smashing her fist into her palm, "Is to hit everyone in the audience with _feelings_. I mean, I guarantee you we're going to have grown men crying in the audience by the time the show is over. And everybody who sees it is going to learn how awesome the two of you are. Right Michelle?"

"We wouldn't come here if we didn't want to do this show right." Michelle said, nodding.

She could see that Princess Anna was eating it up. She leaned in on the table; not even realizing one of her pigtails fell into her soup bowl until Elsa calmly pointed it out. With every word Eleanor said, she nodded vigorously.

Elsa, meanwhile, was harder to read. She stayed upright in her chair, her posture perfect, nodding calmly to show that she was listening. She only interrupted them once, to ask Michelle if they intended to make sure the how was 'accurate'.

"Well, that's why we're here," Michelle explained. "We thought we could interview the two of you. There's a lot of stuff that people aren't really sure about. That way we can make sure the show is completely accurate. Of course, some things might need to be changed _slightly_ depending on how they would work on stage…"

Elsa's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing in response.

"Well, I think it's a cool idea!" Anna exclaimed, leaning back in her chair as the servants delivered the dessert. Michelle couldn't help but roll her eyes and smile when Eleanor and Anna squealed in delight at the same time.

"Chocolate cake!" Eleanor exclaimed. "Chocolate is like, my favorite thing to eat _ever_."

"I know!" Anna agreed, swallowing practically the entire slice in one forkful.

"So, what do you think?" Eleanor asked, looking at Anna. "You want to make this musical happen?"

"Absolutely—" Anna began, but Elsa held up a hand.

"Thank you," she said, "But no thank you."

"But Elsa—" the three others said at once. Elsa got up and pushed in her chair.

"Dinner is over," she said. "Eleanor, Michelle, the two of you may stay in a guest room for the night before you leave. No offense…but you both seem like you need a change of clothes and a bath. Badly."

Eleanor tried to stammer something out; Michelle could feel her spirits crumbling. They had already put all this work into it, and they couldn't even get started on the writing.

"I'll show you guys where the rooms are," Anna said gently, shooting Elsa a sad look and leading the two outside the room.

* * *

"I still don't understand it." Michelle said, "Why did she say no?"

"I don't know either," Eleanor said, for once walking behind her. Anna, trying to be a good host, did her best to be cheerful. "Maybe she just hates musicals. Does she like musicals Anna?"

"Elsa is just weird," Anna said, "I'm sorry guys. I think that a musical is a great idea! I know what'll make you feel better—" she stopped them all at a large door. She grinned, throwing it open dramatically.

"TA-DAAA!" Anna shouted, showing them the room. "Here you go. Michelle, this is your room I guess."

The two sisters stared at the giant room, mouths open wide. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen." Michelle breathed.

"This room is bigger than the entire orphanage." Eleanor said. Her good mood returning, she ran inside and belly flopped on the bed. "OH MY GOD I FORGOT HOW COMFORTABLE MATTRESSES ARE."

Anna giggled. "I'm glad you guys like it."

"Yeah…" Michelle looked at Anna. "It's just too bad that tomorrow it's back to the streets…" She was blatantly trying to guilt Anna, and Michelle didn't care.

"Listen, I'm really sorry," Anna said, rubbing her arm. "Like I said, I love the idea—let me talk to her though!" she said, suddenly getting an idea. "I mean, no promises. Maybe I can convince her to change her mind!"

"That would be really great," Michelle said, giving a weak smile. "Thank you for trying. You're much more open minded than your sister."

"Oh, Elsa's very nice," Anna assured her, "I mean, I honestly don't know her _that_ well I guess, I barely saw her until the whole 'eternal winter' thing—"she stopped, smiling sheepishly. "But anyway. Does your sister want to see where her room is?"

Michelle made a mental note to remember what Anna accidentally slipped out. "Eleanor, do you want to see your room?"

"Huh?" Eleanor was jumping on the bed. "You mean I get my own?"

"Sure," Anna said, "Right across from this one."

Eleanor jumped off the bed. "Hey, I'll meet you there," Eleanor said, "Give me a second?"

"Sure," Anna walked outside.

"Hey…" Eleanor put her hands on her sister's shoulders. "Listen, don't think you failed or anything."

"We did though."

"You managed to get us a free night inside the castle and a full-course meal. I think that's a win in my book." She hugged her. "I love you, alright?"

"Yeah," Michelle said stiffly.

"At least try to enjoy yourself tonight?" Eleanor asked.

"That's the thing. I almost would have rather not done this at all," she made a sweeping gesture. "Than be treated as a charity case for one night and thrown out like trash…you heard how she sounded when she told us to stay. Elsa doesn't want us here. She only let us spend the night here so she wouldn't feel as guilty when she kicks us out in the morning."

Eleanor sighed, giving her sister a worried look as she walked out of the room, shaking her head.

* * *

Michelle's eyes slowly opened the next morning, waking to the strained sounds of a piano being played somewhere else.

She got up, realizing that she had an entire closet at her disposal now. There was a note on its door.

_Dear Miss Belmonte,_

_ Please feel free to wear whatever you want. Take it with you when you leave. Didn't want to wake you up. : )_

She imagined it had come from Anna—she couldn't imagine Elsa's handwriting being so messy, or using a little smiley face. She looked inside, choosing her clothes carefully considering the fact that they would need to endure much worse conditions than the ones in the castle. She settled on the simplest thing she could find, a chemise and beige skirt with a belt. She realized with a jolt that these clothes looked much too plain to belong to royalty—they were giving them clothes that were worn by the _servants_.

She shook the thought from her head—beggars could not be choosers. She settled on walking out into the hallway, following the sounds of the piano until it led her downstairs into what looked to be a parlor. Eleanor had woken up before her.

"It has been forever since I've gotten to play a piano!" Eleanor said, laughing. Unlike Michelle, she had chosen to wear an extravagant blue dress with pearl lacing. Not noticing Michelle yet, she burst into singing:

_Oh, what a beautiful morning,_

_ Oh, what a beautiful day!_

_ I've got a wonderful feeling…_

_ Everything's going my way!_

Anna leaned on the piano, trying to sing along even though Eleanor was making up words off the top of her head. Her voice was horribly off-key, especially next to Eleanor's accomplished singing, but her enthusiasm more than made up for it.

"Come on Elsa, Kristoff, sing with us—Michelle!" Anna looked at her and grinned. "Michelle, great news! Elsa changed her mind!"

"What?" Michelle's heart leapt to her throat. "You mean…?"

"Yes," Eleanor interjected, "We've got exclusive rights to the Queen Elsa and Anna story!"

Michelle looked at Elsa. She stood stiffly in the back of the room, smiling, but succeeding in looking more like she had just eaten something sour.

Michelle didn't even know what to say. "I mean…really? This is…"

"Amazing?" Eleanor asked, "Incredibly awesome? Thank my new best friend for that!" Eleanor put her arm around Anna, pulling her in for a hug while she laughed.

"Seriously, I knew Elsa was just surprised you wanted to, that's all." Anna said, backing away and taking Kristoff by the arm. "Congratulations on getting the job guys!"

"So…I haven't met either of you yet," Kristoff said. "Kristoff Bjorgman."

Michelle, still stunned, could only wave weakly, ignoring the hand he had extended for her.

"We're going to have breakfast before we start working on the story." Eleanor said, "We were waiting for you to wake up!"

"That's great," Michelle said stupidly, as they all got up and left. She didn't even realize they were leaving without her until they had left the room, and she began going after them when a hand—a very cold hand—was on her shoulder.

"Can I talk to you?" Elsa said. Michelle turned around.

"Queen Elsa, I don't know what changed your mind, but thank you—"

"I don't like you," Elsa said, cutting to the chase. "Either of you. At all."

Michelle stared at her. "…I see."

"I see right through the two of you." She shook her head. "Miss Belmonte, do you know why there are gaps in what the people of Arendelle know about this?"

Michelle shook her head.

"It's because I don't feel the need to air our dirty laundry in public." Elsa continued. "I would like to move past that and forget that it happened. I've asked the people who were there to not share anything. What you are doing—" here she jabbed a finger into her chest, "Trying to drudge up painful memories, and putting it out for the world to see, is _exploitative_. And I do not appreciate that."

Michelle looked down at Elsa's hand. "With all due respect, Your Highness," she said, putting her hand on Elsa's arm and pushing it away from her, "We did not force you to agree to this. _You_ changed _your_ mind."

"I don't want to do this. Anna does. And I can hardly tell her no if she insists, considering this is just as much her story as mine." she shook her head. "This brings me to another point. My sister does not have a lot of friends. She had a very isolated childhood, and people tend to not…well, she can be a bit too much for people to handle."

Michelle couldn't help but nod in understanding.

"So, let me warn you right now," She said, her voice dropping until it was almost a growl, "That Anna has been deceived before for personal gain, and if your friend is only pretending to be 'fast friends' so that Anna would want to help her change my mind—"

"Wait a minute," Michelle interrupted, "Let's get something straight. You can say I'm as manipulative as you want; you're probably right. What I'm doing _is_ exploitative. But don't you _dare_ bring my sister into this. Eleanor doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Her wanting to be friends with Anna has nothing to do with the musical." At least, she thought so. Michelle couldn't help but think that if Elsa was right, she'd be pretty impressed.

Elsa looked confused for a moment. "You mean she really _does_ act like that?"

Michelle couldn't help but smile. "Well, yes. The reason she and Anna are so similar is…well, because they _are_."

Elsa put a hand to her temple, rubbing it. "Two Annas," she groaned, "I need to deal with _two_ Annas now." Seeming to remember that Michelle was there, she put her attention back on her. "But my other point still stands. I will be looking at your work _very_ closely, Miss Belmonte, and if I see anything written into that show that did not happen or I don't approve of…"

"I get it." Michelle said flippantly, "Alright? You'll behead us for treason, jail us, whatever. But they'll probably be wondering where we are."

As if on cue, Eleanor poked her head into the room. "Uh, guys?"

"Coming," Elsa said, "I was just personally saying how happy I am to be working with your sister," she fixed her with a look that barely hid her dislike. "_Very_ closely."

Michelle gulped, but hid it and returned her glare.

_Author's note: Since I am not a natural songwriter, this fanfic will be composed almost entirely of non-original songs. So to get it out of the way: All the songs in the original movie will be in the ones the sisters will be writing into the musicals, and are written by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez. The little song Eleanor was singing in this chapter is from the musical 'Oklahoma'. Hope you like and review!  
_


	5. Beginnings

Since the Great Thaw, Elsa had worked very hard to make sure no one ever mentioned it again.

People tried to, of course. Her advisors practically begged her to disclose exactly what had happened during Anna's visit to her castle and on the Fjord—Elsa never told them anything. Kristoff and Anna, to Elsa's eternal gratitude, also agreed not to share. Everyone assumed that Hans's version of the events was a lie, and Elsa was perfectly willing to let them believe that. Would anyone want to admit they had almost killed their sister?

The truth was, every time she thought of those few days after her coronation, her stomach clenched in shame. Her nightmares were still haunted with the image of Anna's frozen body standing in the way of Hans's sword…

And, when she was finally moving on with her life, this playwright managed to talk her way in and was trying to make her relive every moment. Elsa still wasn't even completely sure they were actually homeless—after all of the success she had, surely she would have made some money? But Anna, being the eternal optimist she was, had practically begged Elsa to help them.

She sat down at the head of the table; her royal training kicked in as she straightened her posture and calmly folded the napkin into her lap. She had to admit, if Michelle was being honest, it was wonderful to see Anna have a friend her age.

"Listen, do you see this plate?" Eleanor asked, pulling a servant in close. It was obvious she was being over dramatic with Anna and Kristoff watching. "Do you see how there are pancakes on this plate? Because for the next few hours, you better make sure that you keep putting pancakes on this plate. Alright?" The servant nodded, flustered. Anna and Kristoff laughed.

"When breakfast is over, we should get started," Michelle said, her voice rising so she was heard above them. "We've got a lot of work to do. Hopefully if we can go over everything quickly I can finish the first draft of the story in a month." Michelle looked in Elsa's direction for a moment. Her face was expressionless—another thing that made Elsa uneasy. She hadn't known her very long at all, but she could already tell that she seemed almost allergic to smiling.

"Would that be okay with you, Your Majesty?" Michelle asked. Maybe it was the bias she already had against her, but Elsa thought Michelle's words held a touch of sarcasm.

Elsa smiled at her. "Yes, it would be fine. Are you hungry? You've barely eaten." She could see that the other three were looking at them with a hint of uneasiness. Elsa didn't want them to know of the conversation they had. For Anna's sake, she would be polite to her friend's sister.

Michelle looked down at her plate again, pushing her poached eggs around before finally putting a sliver of yolk into her mouth. "Fine," she said, when she swallowed it. "Great."

The rest of the meal the two stayed silent, letting Eleanor and Anna do most of the talking. When Eleanor finally announced that, for the first time in her entire life she couldn't eat another bite, she stared down at her stomach in awe and pushed in her chair.

"Look at me Michelle—my dress actually feels tight! My stomach hurts from eating too much!" she pulled her into a hug.

"Eleanor, you know you shouldn't do that," Michelle chided, "If you eat too much after going without for so long, you'll get sick."

"Then we better get started before I do!" Eleanor said with a grin.

* * *

Michelle couldn't believe that only two days ago they were sleeping on the road with not a single idea of what to do, to being here. It had taken another half hour before they ended up actually getting started, when Michelle realized she needed things to get started; paper, a quill, ink, and of course a room with a door for privacy. This caused another problem; when they decided on a room, they had Eleanor insisting that she needed a piano if they were going to be working there. The reason it ended up being only a half hour, and not longer, was because Elsa suggested they should ice the floor so that they could move the grand piano quickly.

Now, rubbing the bruise on her head she had gotten from tripping on that ice, Michelle cleared her mind. It was time to get started.

"Okay…" she looked at the two of them. "Start at the beginning. How did you get your ice powers, Queen Elsa?"

"I was born with them," she said, hands folded in her lap. "I don't know why."

Michelle nodded, scribbling that down. Every bit of information helped.

"Then tell me about your childhood," Michelle continued, "What was that like?"

It was a slow process, especially when talking about the events of Anna's accident. Elsa, thrilled to talk in the first place, only gave the barest minimum of answers. Michelle would have to ask several times for more detail before getting a sufficient amount of information. Anna, meanwhile, was more forthcoming, but tended to ramble.

"And then the snow monster was all like 'raaaawr' and me and Kristoff were all, 'run away' and he told me I needed to jump off a cliff and I was, like, 'I'm totally ready for this, no problem', and then…"

"Okay, that's good," Michelle interrupted. Eleanor was no help.

"Wait, wait, a snow monster? What did it look like?" she asked in awe.

"Eleanor! This is only so we can have enough information to get started. We're only getting the information we _need_."

"We don't need to know what the snow monster looked like?"

"Not in excruciating detail, no!" she snapped.

Eleanor quieted after that. The air hung heavy between them as Michelle scribbled something into her book.

"…Well, since Elsa _accidentally_ hit me with ice magic," she emphasized accidentally, smiling at her sister sheepishly. "We had to go get help, so Kristoff took me to the trolls. He was raised by them."

"Right," Michelle said with a sigh. She wrote 'trolls' in big letters, with a question mark next to it. It seemed that Olaf and the trolls would be very difficult to add into the show, unless they were willing to use absolutely ridiculous costumes.

"…And then, because I sacrificed myself to save Elsa, my heart unfroze and I didn't die," Anna finished. "And that's what happened."

Eleanor had a hand to her mouth.

"…That's it?" she asked.

The two sisters nodded.

"Wow, that's really heart wrenchingly awesome."

"I agree," Michelle said, rolling up the three sheets of parchment she had used up documenting everything. "This was practically made to be a musical." She hit the parchment against her hand unconsciously. "I'll get started on writing the script and we can go through what I've started tomorrow…you can leave now if you want."

Anna and Elsa looked at each other, getting up.

"See you guys!" Eleanor said, giving a cheery wave.

"You ready?" Eleanor asked, holding out her quill. "I'll work on the music while you write?"

Michelle took the quill, smiling. "Sorry Eleanor," she said, "But since this is the most important thing I think I've ever written, it's best I go to my room so I don't get distracted."

Eleanor's smile fell for a moment, but she regained it just as quickly. "Oh. Okay. Knock 'em dead with your writing sis!"

Michelle walked out, absorbed in her notes, beginning to write. The ideas were so numerous that she couldn't even wait, walking as she wrote, gripped in the heated excitement only writers could understand, when you can imagine so many difficult scenes, bits of witty conversations, and settings and all you need is to put the pieces together:

_Lights open on a shared bedroom. It is clear from the furniture and decorations that this is the home of royalty; a little girl, ANNA, gets out of bed and goes to her sister ELSA, who is still asleep…_

* * *

Eleanor sighed, twinkling the piano keys without any rhyme or reason. Truthfully, she had thought working together would end the long hours that Michelle would spend writing and refusing to be disturbed; now she was a little disillusioned. At least before when she'd do that she couldn't lock herself alone in a room…

She shook the thoughts from her head; she had to focus. Eleanor may not be as disciplined as her sister, but she was still a musician. She could _do _this.

She closed her eyes, trying to picture the story the sisters had told them in her head. Battles with snow monsters, running through an icy fjord, a tearful reunion; any one of those could be the starting point for her. But for some reason, one thing Anna had said stuck with her the most.

"I kept asking her to play with me, when we were kids," Anna had told them, "But Elsa would never leave her room. I thought she was just ignoring me…for some reason I always asked her if she wanted to build a snowman. Even in summer for some reason, I mean, I guess part of me still remembered how much fun we'd have with her ice magic and I missed it..."

Eleanor smiled, her good mood returning.

"Hey Elsa," she said in a squeaky voice, trying to mimic a child. Then she began singing her next words, grinning when she realized she'd actually begun composing a musical. _"Do you wanna' build a snowman…?"_


	6. Eleanor learns to be a Writer

Michelle awoke to a knock on the door, hunched over her writing desk, quill in hand. She had fallen asleep working on the script.

It proved to be very difficult for her; she had enthusiastically written about half of the play in one night, only to realize that she had forgotten that there needed to be musical numbers; moreover, something was just _off_ about the whole thing. She was going into too much detail about their childhood, the result being that it was far too exposition-heavy. Michelle's personal rule of thumb was that an audience would only be patient for up to an hour; after that you would be fighting every step of the way to keep their attention. She needed to trim the fat off and only include the bare-bones minimum until she got to the coronation, where the story _really_ began.

But at the same time, she needed to emphasize how much Elsa had pushed Anna away, to make their reunion at the end more meaningful…

Because of that, she went from being half-way done to having nothing but the first five pages. The beginning, where Elsa caused Anna's accident and the King and Queen take them to the trolls—she _still _had no idea how that would work—was necessary, she concluded.

Now, all she wanted to do was sleep. "What?" she groaned.

"Hey Michelle!" Eleanor said, muffled by the door between them. _"Do you wanna' build a snowman? Come on, let's go and play. I hardly see you anymore, please come out the door, it's like you've gone away…"_

"You're being way too dramatic," Michelle grumbled.

_"We used to be best buddies, but now we're not," _Eleanor continued, ignoring her. "_I wish you would tell me why…do you wanna' build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman!"_

"Go away Eleanor!" Michelle shouted to the closed door.

_"Okay bye…"_

Michelle, her brain fogged by sleep, finally realized as Eleanor let her last note linger that she had been singing that entire thing. Suddenly wide awake, she ran to the door and threw it open.

"Eleanor, was that…?"

"Yes, it was!" Eleanor answered proudly. "I worked on it all night. It's about Anna being all 'boo-hoo, why won't Elsa play with me anymore?' I have another verse written too if you want me to show you."She reached into her satchel, pulling out the rest of the lyrics.

"That's…that's perfect!" Michelle said, struck with inspiration. She ran back into her room, grabbing the parchment and quill. "That song is exactly what I needed. One thing though—can you add a funeral reprise?"

"What?"

"No, Eleanor, what I mean is—" she was using the wall as a table, writing furiously. "We can use the song as an _age progression_. You said you've already written two verses, right? We have one where she's little, one where she's a little older—and then I can just add a scene where their parents say they're going on the trip where they drowned, and we can use lighting and music to indicate something bad happened—and Anna sings a really sad verse about them."

Eleanor nodded. "Alright, I can do that…"  
"This still works out really well. We can show most of their back story with one song and then skip right to the coronation! And since it's a song, it will have more impact." she dotted a period. "You're a genius Elle. If you can, want to try writing the last verse before breakfast? We can show them our first song after that."

"I'll give it a shot!" Eleanor said, giving a mock salute before scampering down the hall to finish the song.

The excitement helped wake Michelle up, and she decided to speed up the process by taking a hot bath. She ran it, sinking down into the water, humming the tune Eleanor was singing. It was rather catchy, she had to admit…

_Knock-knock_

"Michelle? It's Princess Anna. Are you in here?"

Michelle awoke with a start. She had fallen asleep. "What…yes, I'm taking a bath. What is it?"

"Eleanor's upset; do you know why?"

She straightened up. "What do you mean 'upset'?"

"I don't know…just, you know, really sad. She locked herself in, um, your 'work area' I guess this morning, and now I can hear her make sniffling noises, and I offered to give her pancakes, but she won't come out. I think she's embarrassed and doesn't want me to see that she was crying."

Michelle got out of the tub, changing into her new clothes and finding a ribbon to tie her hair back.

"That's weird," Michelle agreed, opening the door. "I'll go talk to her."  
"I mean, I don't know what's wrong." Anna said as they walked down. "She told me to go away when I tried to talk to her. I mean, I haven't known Elle for that long, but I didn't expect her to do that…it felt like when Elsa did it to me as a kid." Her eyes flicked over to Michelle's face for a moment before looking away.

They came up to the door. "Eleanor? It's your sister."

No answer.

"Listen, Anna told me she thought you might be upset. I'm going to open the door and check on you, okay?"

"…Okay," the voice inside answered stiffly. Michelle gently turned the doorknob, slipping inside, and saw Eleanor, sitting on the piano bench, forehead resting on the keys.

"Eleanor, what happened to you?" Eleanor looked up; Anna was right, she had been crying.

"Oh Michelle, I hate this!" she wailed.

"What?"  
"Writing this!" she lifted up the sheet music, the words 'Do You Wanna' Build a Snowman' written at the top in Eleanor's intelligible scrawl only Michelle could decipher from years of practice. "I mean, I was writing the reprise like you said—and then I finished it—when I realized, their parents just _died_. An hour ago we were casually chatting about how we could use a song to skip over the part where they lose their parents!" she wiped her nose with her sleeve. "I mean, it's all so fast, it doesn't happen on stage even, and when I was singing it to make sure it sounded right I could just imagine Anna sitting on one side of Elsa's door all alone and Elsa sitting on her side alone and not even responding…and it…" she reached the point after crying where she took shaky breaths.

"You can relate?" Michelle asked gently. Eleanor could only nod solemnly.

"I just…they're so much like us, aren't they?" Eleanor said. "Except you were always there for me. Well, maybe not mentally sometimes, but you were always _there_. They never got to have that. I feel so _bad_ for them."

Michelle didn't know how to respond. Eleanor, having walked into the castle homeless, dirty, starving, and wearing the equivalent of _rags_, was talking about how she felt like she had better luck than the Princess and Queen of Arendelle. She couldn't help but think about how this summed up the difference between the two of them perfectly.

"Plus, I'm kind of embarrassed I started crying." Eleanor finished weakly.

"Eleanor, I'm actually very proud of you." Michelle said. "You've been initiated."

"…What…?"

"You're not a real writer," Michelle explained, "Until you've got into the heads of your characters. You became Anna writing that song, Elle. You got so far into her head writing that song that it made you cry. That takes _talent_."

"Really?" she asked, smiling.

"Of course. I've made myself upset writing my plays sometimes. This is a good thing. And the worse it made you feel, the better."

"I feel horrible!" Eleanor answered excitedly.

"Then that means your song did exactly what it was meant to do, and then some." Michelle answered. "Do you think you can show me the last verse?"

Eleanor looked at the sheet music in her hands. "Some of the ink is running a little, because I was crying, but I can try." She took a deep breath, turning to the keys, and began singing the best she could:

"_Elsa please, I know you're in there…_

_ People are asking where you've been._

_ They say have courage, and I'm trying to,_

_ I'm right here for you, please let me in._

_ We've only got each other now,_

_ What are we gonna' _do_?"_

Eleanor stopped for a moment, taking a shaky breath; her voice had cracked. "Sorry," she croaked. Michelle nodded encouragingly, and Eleanor finished.

_"Do you want to build a snowman…?"_ She played the last few notes, looking exhausted.

"Was that good?" Eleanor asked.

Michelle put a hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "That was beautiful, sis." She said honestly. "If anything your voice cracking just made it more believable. Want to take a break before we show Elsa and Anna?"

Eleanor sniffed. "I still don't know if I'm ready to leave yet."  
"But paaaaancaaaakes," Michelle said in a singsong voice, eliciting a small snort from Eleanor.

"Sure," she finally agreed. "Just…just tell them I stubbed my toe or something, alright?"

"Of course." She took Eleanor by the arm, leading her out the door gently. As soon as they opened it, they stood face-to-face with a very upset looking Anna.

"I got bored waiting, so I put my ear to the door and I heard you singing," she blurted out guiltily, wringing her hands. "It's a beautiful song Eleanor, I'm sorry I'm going a little crazy right now—"

Eleanor grinned through her lingering tears. "Don't worry Anna," she explained, "If it makes you feel bad, that's a _good _thing!" She put an arm around her shoulder, and another around Michelle's, leading them down the hall. "In fact, let me teach you a thing or two about writers…"


	7. Michelle Gets Helpful Information

_Author's Note:_ _Just really quickly-thank you all so much for the reviews, I live off of them. It's so nice seeing the same people coming back every chapter to talk about the story (you know who you are, and you are all awesome)! _

Eleanor, still feeling emotionally drained from that morning, needed an hour's work of cajoling from Anna and Michelle, and a small mountain of pancakes before she was ready to show Elsa the entire song.

Her throat was still sore from her crying, but Eleanor fought valiantly through it, singing every verse with as much enthusiasm as possible. When she got to the last verse, which upset her so much, she even succeeded in not having her voice crack.

"I loved it," Anna said, looking at her sister. "Isn't it a good song Elsa?"

Elsa stood for a moment, her lips pursed. But her demeanor actually relaxed. "That was beautiful," Elsa admitted.

Eleanor looked like she was about to cry from relief. "Thank you," she said, "I know you weren't thrilled with this idea from the beginning Elsa, I'm so glad you like it!"

She nodded. "I just hope the script can be just as good." She looked pointedly at Michelle, who had given her sister an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"Of course," Michelle said coolly. "It will be. I have the first five pages written—everything up to this song. It's very early in the movie; after this we skip straight to your coronation."

Elsa fought the urge to wince; she was not looking forward to seeing that on paper.

"Good."

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. "Can we go through it now?"

"I'll need to grab the script from my room," Michelle answered, "And we can get started."

She got up to leave, and Eleanor followed her.

"Hey, 'Chelle," Eleanor stopped her when they were at the other end of the hallway, Michelle leaning one hand on the banister of the staircase. "You helped me feel better this morning, so I'm gonna' return the favor now. Don't feel too bad about Elsa hating you."

"I don't feel bad," Michelle said dismissively, "Why should I care if she hates me?"

"Can I tell you what I think?" Eleanor asked, following her up the stairs. "Michelle, I don't think you get it. I know exactly why she doesn't like you. Elsa is jealous."

Michelle laughed. "Jealous of what? How I have more money than her?"

"I was thinking about it," Eleanor continued, rushing her words from excitement, "About how I felt bad for them, when their parents died, because Elsa couldn't be there for Anna the way you were for me. And then I thought about how you guys keep saying I'm like Anna, and you're a bit like Elsa—don't make that face Michelle, you _are, _at the very least in the way that you're the older sister—and don't think I haven't noticed that she doesn't like you. Then it hit me," she hit her fist into her palm, "Elsa is jealous of you because we're like how Anna and she would have been if she had been able to control her powers sooner. You're like, a reminder of how much she failed as a sister and it probably makes her feel all guilty and junk."

Michelle stopped at the foot of the steps, turning around and staring at her. "That was a surprisingly good theory you thought of."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "It was me and Anna, actually. I mean, just because we're silly doesn't mean we're _stupid_."

A smile slowly spread across Michelle's face. "Oh my God," she said, "She's jealous of _us_! Ha!"

"I told you that so you could be nicer to her, Anna and I are tired of you always glaring at each other from across the table—"

But Michelle wasn't listening. Whistling, she grabbed her notes from her room and bounded down the stairs.

Michelle read the script slowly, carefully, pausing now and again to ask Elsa her opinion on how it looked. Even Elsa seemed surprised by how serene she was being.

"That script sounds very nice, Miss Belmonte," Elsa said, nodding. "I'm actually rather impressed."

"Thank you," Michelle said brightly. "Anna, what did you think?"  
"It was cool!" Anna agreed, nodding. "So, are we doing the coronation next?"

"Yes," Michelle looked to her sister, who was sitting at the piano expectedly. "Eleanor, I think this is the perfect opportunity for a song."

"A song? Really?" she asked, straightening.

"Yes," she looked at Anna. "I want to introduce you with a song. Something about the coronation."

"Really?" Anna asked excitedly, "I get my own song?"

"Yes. How did you feel the day of the coronation, Anna?" Michelle asked.

"Amazing! It was like, 'I can't believe people are bringing out all this stuff I didn't know we had, and I'll finally meet people, and for the first time in, like," she struggled to think of a word adequate to describe it. "_Forever_ really, I was actually going to have fun!"

"Eleanor," Michelle asked, looking at her, "Do you think you can transcribe that into a song?"

"That sounds awesome!" Eleanor said. Michelle guessed she was rather relieved to be working on an upbeat, happy musical number after such a depressing one.

As they spoke, Michelle kept her bound together notebook close to her chest, writing everything down. "Perfect." She looked at Queen Elsa.

"Queen Elsa, I'd like to give you something as well. Not as large as Anna's, but perhaps a small part in the middle of her song?"

Elsa nodded. "That would be fine."

"I'd imagine you were nervous that day—shouldn't be too hard to write that convincingly. Our problem for the stage, of course, is to have you duet while in separate rooms…but I'm sure I can find a way to work that out. Thank you."

She could have made some sort of remark that she knew would annoy her; something very sisterly toward Eleanor, or even just sitting close to her, to subtly remind Elsa of the few feet of space that was between her and her sister on the bench they had set up for themselves. Michelle had been planning to do something like that since she had heard Eleanor's little 'theory', as a bit of petty revenge.

But suddenly, she didn't feel like doing that anymore. And it was because, as she went over it in her head—she had only been half paying attention to the work this entire time—that if she were in Elsa's position, she would act the _exact_ same way. Probably even more; Michelle was not a very good person. She never pretended to be, and certainly didn't think she was a better one than Elsa. Michelle was an unemotional person, and when she looked at it objectively, Elsa was at the most a little uptight and overprotective. And who could blame her? What she needed to do, Michelle realized, wasn't to antagonize her. She needed to appeal to their similarities.

And so, as Michelle got up to leave the room—she would need to do a thorough tour of the castle, to look at the ballroom, to take notes on everything to help her with the next scene—she looked Elsa in the eyes.

"My sister has never been happier," she said softly, eyes darting toward Eleanor, who had already begun the process of writing, randomly pressing keys muttering words to herself:

"Door…anymore…perfect, first line…now what rhymes with gates…?"

"Thank you." Michelle finished. "I'm doing all of this for her. Surely you can respect that?"

Elsa looked surprised for a moment. Then, for the first time, she seemed to smile at her genuinely. It was not a large smile—you almost couldn't tell she was smiling if you had been across the room—but it was there. It was progress.

"I can respect that." She answered.


	8. Love is an Open Door

"Michelle, that's not what happened." Eleanor said plainly as Michelle read the script to her.

"What do you mean? Of course that's not what happened, people don't burst into song in real life—"

"You know that's not what I meant." Eleanor answered. "Look at your notes. Anna said that she asked Elsa if Hans could stay in a guest room in the castle instead of going back to the Southern Isles. Elsa said no, and _that's_ why Anna got mad."

"I know that's what actually happened," Michelle said impatiently, "But you need to exaggerate things Eleanor, especially in musicals—"

"You're making Anna out to look like some sort of boy-crazy idiot!"

"And your song doesn't? Half of it is dedicated to her wanting to find a man!"

"Yeah, she never says she wants to get engaged in one night!" Eleanor retorted. "Whereas you expect me to use a song to convince the audience that Anna is _totally_ not crazy for wanting to marry a man after like, _four hours_."

"Eleanor, you're being ridiculous," Michelle said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure she won't care. Can you write me the song or not?"

"I guess so..." Eleanor said, "A love duet? Never tried that before. I mean, I used to when we had—"

"Give it your best shot," Michelle said, cutting her off. "I'm sure Anna and Elsa will love it."

* * *

"But that's not what happened!" Anna shouted, waving her arms in the air. Eleanor gave Michelle a look that seemed to convey 'I-told-you-so' with nothing but a raise of the eyebrows.

Michelle paused in her reading. "Princess Anna, please, you need to understand—"

"No, I don't understand. I mean, first you have me do my song and I already sound all boy crazy and stupid in _that_—"

Eleanor slumped a little. She had worked very hard on 'The First Time in Forever', and although Michelle thought it was excellent, Anna had been on the fence. It seemed this had pushed her firmly into the 'dislike' category.

"—And now you're making it out like I got engaged to a guy I just met! I look like…like…some sort of klutzy, desperate _idiot_ or something!"

"I have to admit, this is rather extreme, even for Anna," Elsa said. "Even if I did think she was moving a bit fast, having Hans live with us in the castle…"

"But I didn't marry him," Anna grumbled, crossing her arms. "I look like a moron."

"Listen, what all of you don't seem to understand," Michelle answered, putting the script down land throwing her hands in the air, "Is that, in the world of theatre, this is a perfectly acceptable amount of time to know someone before you get engaged. Haven't you ever seen Romeo and Juliet? Or any stage adaptation of Cinderella? What I'm trying to do is emphasize the character development you go through."

"Character development?"

"Of course. You don't _stay_ this stupid."

From the way Anna's cheeks flushed and the glare she gave her, Michelle guessed that was the wrong thing to say.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that because you want to reduce my sister to comic relief?" Elsa asked, deceptively calm despite the accusation.

"Well…I mean, it would be a good opportunity for humor—but that's not the only reason!" Michelle added hurriedly. "It's also because, well, we wanted to make sure the audience liked you."

"How so…?"

"Well, you know—of course they know why you're being a bit short with Anna in this scene. But everyone would be on Anna's side completely if you refused to let her just date this guy. But if she, say, wants to marry him—well, they can't fault you for that, but they also don't completely blame Anna for being upset, because of how isolated she's been for her entire life. It makes the scene, well, more complex I guess." She shrugged. It just seemed so obvious to her, why the story needed to be this way—she'd written so many plays, much more than the five that had actually been produced, and it was almost second nature to her.

The two sisters seemed to look at each other out of the corner of their eyes, almost as though they were communicating telepathically. Michelle waited with baited breath. She would be very frustrated if they refused to approve this latest version of the script.

"Okay, you know what?" Eleanor finally said, breaking the silence. "I'll make you a deal Anna. You get engaged in the script, and we'll let you punch him."

"Wait what?" Michelle and Anna asked, Michelle confused and Anna delighted.

"Yeah. At the end, we can have you punch him. _Hard_. Come on; don't pretend you wouldn't love to see that."

Anna clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh my God, I always wished I had a chance to punch him in his stupid back-stabbing face! Can we really do that?"  
Michelle forced a smile. "Absolutely. We can do that."

"Then it's totally worth it!" Anna answered. "Elsa, isn't this great? That's the best ending ever!"

"I have to admit, that is something I'd like to see." Elsa said, smiling. "I would pay just to see that scene!"

"Eleanor, you actually got Elsa to sound enthusiastic," Michelle whispered, leaning into her sister. "That's actually really impressive."

"It was nothing," Eleanor answered, "Who doesn't like to punch people?"

"_Other people walk through life where you prefer to skip  
And other people watch their step where you'll most likely trip  
Sure, your hair's not perfect,  
And there's__ー__what's that on your clothes?  
Yeah, you're kinda talkative  
With freckles on your nose._

_But you're you... you-you,  
And that's what makes me smile.  
You're you... you-you  
So stay that way awhile."_

Eleanor looked at Michelle, grinning. "How was that verse?"

Michelle looked away for a moment; her eyes were half lidded, lack of sleep taking its toll on her; Elsa and Anna had since left to attend to some sort of royal obligation, and Eleanor and Michelle had stayed to do some work of their own.

"It's…something's off." Michelle finally settled on. "It's too deep and meaningful."

"What is that supposed to mean? I think it's pretty vague."

"Can you make it even _vaguer_ though?" Michelle asked, "Remember, Hans is completely pulling the wool over her eyes; he barely has any opinion of her at all, either way. He's only going to say things that sound pretty but aren't specific in the least. He's not going to pay attention to her clothes, or even _notice_ that she has freckles, really."

Eleanor looked disgruntled for a moment, and then sighed. "Fine, I'll think of something else."

"'Murder your darlings'," Michelle quoted, "It's part of being—"

"A writer, yeah." Eleanor finished. "I'm just tired! I have no idea where to go next…"

"I don't know either," Michelle admitted. "Just…I don't know, think of vague but romantic sounding stuff?"

"Okay." Eleanor spoke in a high, girly voice, trying to mimic a love struck teenager. "Like, oh my God, we like, finish each other's sentences and everything! You think so much like me it's like we're _connected_."

Michelle laughed a little. "Not bad." She thought it over for a moment. "You know, maybe we can use a metaphor. Like in poetry; songs are just poetry set to music, right?"

"Meta-what?"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "You know, compare something by saying it _is _something. Like 'my love is a burning flame' or something. Not that I'm saying we should use that. How about," she snapped her fingers, a light bulb going off in her head. "You know, how Anna always had Elsa ignore her by staying in her room—"

"—So have her say that 'your love is like opening a door for me'?" She asked. She pressed the keys experimentally. "_Love is you opening a dooooor…."_

Michelle shook her head. "How about just 'Love is an Open Door? And her entire life has been closed doors until she met her."

Eleanor nodded enthusiastically. "I got it!"

"_All my life has been a series of doors in my face,_

_ 'Till the moment I ran into you…"_

"Exactly!" Michelle said. "Now Hans comes in…"

They continued working through the night; nothing woke an artist up like being inspired.


	9. Let It Go pt 1

Although the addition of Hans getting punched at the end of the show managed to avoid that specific problem, Michelle could see that the support from the sisters was waning somewhat. Anna had always been the one that had been keeping Elsa on board with the project, and now she was starting to worry about how it was being written.

"I just…you know, thank you for having me punch Hans and all, but I thought about it, and I'm still not as excited about the show as I was at first…" she said, glancing at Eleanor. It was clear she felt a lot worse about hurting her feelings than Michelle's.

"Don't worry about it Anna," Eleanor said, "I understand. Just give us one more chance though, alright? I promise you the next song we do will be awesome."

As soon as Anna left her room, Michelle threw her hands in the air.

"This is just ridiculous!" she said, "Anna is acting like…like…"

"Someone who doesn't like how they're being portrayed in a show they'll be funding?" Eleanor asked pointedly.

"She can't accept the fact that I've written her as an actual person," Michelle huffed. "In all of these fairy-tale type stories, the heroine is always a beautiful, tragically misunderstood woman who's _flawless_ in every way. She thought I was going to write her as some sort of _goddess_ who could do no wrong. And you know what? I am not sacrificing my artistic integrity so she can feel good about herself!"

"Michelle—"

"I mean, it's not like she doesn't, I don't know, almost _die_ to save her sister by jumping in front of that guy's _sword_, don't know how I can make her anymore likable—"

"EARTH TO SISTER!" Eleanor shouted, stomping her foot. "Listen, I get what you're saying. I get it. But we can't do anything about it now, can we? All we can do is keep going, and if they like it, great. If they don't, well, that's your call to make. If you seriously want to bail because you refuse to change the script…" Eleanor shrugged. "I go where you go. That's all I have to say."

Michelle's gaze softened. "Thank you Eleanor. That…that means a lot. Of course, continuing it is all we can do and if they hate it, well, who wants to work with them anyway…"

She walked away, practically collapsing into her chair at the writing desk. Eleanor cast a hurt look in her direction before walking away.

"Eleanor, that won't work. It's terrible."

Michelle had shouted to be heard over Eleanor, who had been singing her newest attempt at a song.

"That's the fifth time you stopped me in the middle of a song Michelle, you know I don't like that—"

"I don't care if you don't, we don't have time—"

"I said _stop interrupting me_!"

Michelle sighed. "Sorry." Eleanor nodded, giving her permission to continue.

"Eleanor, listen, this song? We need to get Anna and Elsa back on board with this. It's very important. Especially since this song is for Elsa, and she's still more unsure than Anna is. It needs to be fantastic. It needs to be the greatest thing you've ever written, and we need to do it soon because the longer they can think about how they don't like the script the harder it will probably be to convince them. These songs are too simple, they're all just sad ballads about her having to exile herself. We need something…I don't know, _deeper_. These are all awful. Write something else."

"You're being a jerk," Eleanor muttered. Michelle's eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?" she asked, "Did you say something?"

Eleanor looked like she was about to say 'never mind'; then she seemed to think again. "Yes. I said you're being a _jerk_." She spat.

Michelle crossed her arms, staring Eleanor down. Eleanor stared right back from her seat. She was not used to being so angry; especially not at her sister. Michelle was equally shocked.

"Why?" she finally asked. It was all she could think of to say.

"You're treating me like a slave!" Eleanor said, shaking the papers in her face. "We're supposed to be _partners_. But all you've been doing is throwing the script in my face and telling me 'insert song here' like I'm some sort of machine or something! How would you like it if I threw a random song and said 'write me a scene for this?'"

"You've never written music for a show before Elle," Michelle pointed out, trying to keep herself calm. "Whereas I have the experience of writing, so of course I'm taking charge. Besides, how do you think I've felt? You've been running around the castle having fun with Anna and Kristoff while I've been writing this alone in my room. So if every few days I tell you to write something, I hardly think that's comparable—"

"You think I only write when you ask me to?" Eleanor asked, her voice suddenly quiet. She took her satchel, dumping the contents on the ground. "Look at all of this!"

Michelle picked some up; she didn't recognize them. They had titles like 'Elsa and Anna' and 'Winter's Waltz' but, oddly enough, no lyrics.

"You may know a ton about plays," Eleanor said, "But I know more about musicals. You forgot the small detail of the fact that there is an orchestra, and we need an overture and music playing over parts of emotional scenes—I've been staying in here all night for weeks writing them. So I do think I'm doing just as much work as you."

Michelle stared at the pieces of paper. She could not read music well, but she assumed knowing her that they would sound lovely. "Eleanor, I completely forgot those needed to be written. It wasn't like I was being unappreciative of the work you put in."

"Please," Eleanor said with a wave of her hand.

"No, Elle, I mean it." Michelle said, shaking her head. "I know I'm being bossy, and overbearing, but I've been doing this because I want to take care of us—"

"Now you're just lying." Eleanor said seething, "Remember, in your room? I told you I would go with you if you decided to quit, and you just said it 'meant a lot', and if they didn't like it they didn't deserve your writing."

"What did you want me to say?" She asked, practically shaking from anger.

"How about 'there's no way I'm quitting sis, I'm going to write whatever they want to get this show made if that means we don't end up homeless again'?" She snorted. "But right. Artistic integrity is more important than if we eat. God _forbid_ you do work that's beneath you."

There was just no way Eleanor could sound this bitter without it having been built up for a lot longer than the time they spent working on this show—and while Michelle was always nicer to her sister than anyone else in the world, she had a limit and it had been hit.

"So you don't like this?" she said quietly, her words dripping with venom. "Then _leave_. I'll write Elsa's song myself!" She walked up to the piano bench. Eleanor clutched the edges so hard that her knuckles were white.

"No way, this is my piano!"

And Michelle shoved her. It wasn't that hard, not even enough to make Eleanor fall off, but she looked as though she had been slapped in the face. She had never so much as had Michelle raise a hand to her.

"Eleanor…" Michelle said, but trailed off. Eleanor had gotten up herself and walked out, shouting 'I wish Anna was my sister!' before slamming the door.

"She can have you, for all I care!" Michelle shouted back. She turned to the piano. "I will show her. This song will be amazing." Songs were just poetry set to music, right? That was all it was. Poetry and music. She would be able to do the rest of it without her anyway.

But for the rest of the night Michelle just stared at a blank piece of paper, randomly pressing piano keys.


	10. Let It Go pt 2

Michelle was still in denial, but she did admit to herself that, yes, song writing was slightly more difficult than she thought. Of course, the denial was still there, considering 'slightly harder' meant that she hadn't written a single thing.

Of course she couldn't do it. Michelle was a writer—but a logical one. She looked at putting together plots, getting inside characters' heads and solving problems in an orderly way, like solving an equation or a puzzle. Song writing was different; it was about emotion, it was about what was happening in that exact moment it was being sung. _Something Eleanor was better at_, Michelle thought begrudgingly.

But she couldn't quit—not after their fight. So her sister got a taste of palace life, and that meant Michelle never tried to care for her? How was living in the castle any better? Living here, living on the streets, either way they weren't self-sufficient they way Michelle wanted to be. They were at the mercy of Elsa and Anna, who could kick them out with a snap of their fingers. How could Eleanor be okay with that? With the knowledge that if you made on wrong move around them the rug could be pulled out from under you?

So Michelle did what she did best; she analyzed. She tried to figure out what Elsa's emotions would be. And whatever Elsa was feeling, would probably be what she would start singing. But how would she feel? Relief that she was finally able to use her powers? Sadness at having to leave? Anger at Arendelle for rejecting her? Joy? Or all of that, in which case she had no idea how she could convey it.

She couldn't ask Elsa either; she had a feeling Eleanor already told Anna about their fight, and if she approached Elsa she would try and make Michelle apologize. She wasn't having that.

Michelle had writer's block before of course; it was all part of the process. She remembered when she wrote her last play, _The House at the Foot of the Hill_. It had been inspired by when Eleanor and Michelle had come across an old, dilapidated, abandoned house, which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded by nothing but thick oak trees and swamp. Eleanor and Michelle used that house as a base for a few days, staring up at the sky through holes in the roof, speculating on who might have lived there and why.

Whenever she got stuck writing, Michelle had returned to that house, gazing at its walls. Although she made up all the characters in her head, going in there made them seem real to her; she could imagine it newly built, could see the characters going about their business. She simply wrote down what she saw and cut out the boring parts. But she couldn't very well do that, could she?

It hit Michelle suddenly; she could _do_ that.

_That would be incredibly stupid and dangerous._ Her logical side thought.

_But you can't ask Eleanor to write it now!_ Her ego shouted right back, drowning her logical side out.

"I hate her, I hate her, I _hate _her!" Eleanor shouted, stuffing her face with chocolate. They were in the sitting room, Elsa and Anna sitting in chairs right next to her.

Anna patted her back sympathetically, glancing at Elsa. "What do I say?" she mouthed.

"Um…Eleanor, perhaps you should stop eating?" Elsa asked gently. "I know you're upset, but emotional eating is a bad habit to get into."

Eleanor shrugged away a hunk of dark chocolate, patting her stomach. She had gained so much weight since living in the castle that now she was slightly chubby.

"Oh please, Elsa, you sound like my sister. Who I hate—"

"I know Elle," Anna said, "But you haven't exactly told us what happened, you know?"

Eleanor tried to tell to tell them what happened; near the middle of her story, however, she burst into tears.

"And then…then she _shoved_ me." Eleanor cried, "She's never, _ever_ touched me before. When we were younger she got whipped with a belt because she hit a lady at the orphanage for grabbing my arm too hard. All she cares about is writing her precious story the way _she_ wants to. Also, I kinda told her I wished you were my sister Anna." She finished, smiling sheepishly.

"Oh…" Anna smiled, giving her friend a hug. "That's so nice! I am so, so, so sorry. This is all my fault, if I hadn't complained about the script you guys both wouldn't be so stressed out."

"Don't apologize." Eleanor said, "You and Elsa want to make sure you look good, and I'd totally write the script the way you want. Michelle is just stubborn." She looked at the queen. "But you understand, you don't like her either, right Elsa?"

Elsa bit her lower lip, looking down at the ground for a moment before answering. "I think you need to go and apologize to her." She said.

"What? No way, there is no way I'm doing that, she's the one who needs to apologize to me!"

"I know, but she's not going to." Elsa said simply. "So if you want this whole feud to end, you need to do it."

"You don't understand," Eleanor said, "I've had to deal with her my entire life. This blowout was a long time coming, let me tell you. She has this idea that she's a great playwright, that musicals are beneath her, my entire life she's made me feel like I was_ stupid_ for wanting to be a musician—meanwhile her stuff isn't working, and we're homeless, but does she try something else if she's so desperate to take care of me? No, she just keeps trying to do the same thing! And then she's totally prepared to quit this and leave—you want me to just forgive her? How do you expect me to do _that_?"

Elsa sighed, rubbing her temples. Eleanor looked at her smugly.

"Uh...you should probably take this one Elsa," Anna said, "You probably can think of a better answer than me…"

"She's your sister," Elsa said, wringing her hands. "Anna and I know something about forgiving people, don't we?"

"Yeah!" Anna said, "If I can forgive Elsa for almost freezing me to death and then making a giant snow monster chase me, you can forgive your sister!"

"Michelle and I don't always see eye-to-eye," Elsa continued, "But I can tell she loves you. I wish Anna and I were so close…"

Anna looked at her sister, putting a hand on her shoulder and smiling. "If I never forgave Elsa I would have regret it the rest of my life."

"But…" Eleanor threw her hands in the air. "What do you want me to do? I don't know how. I'm still really angry, I won't mean it when I say it. How did you manage to do it, Anna?"

Anna looked at her sister for a moment. "I…don't really know how to explain it," Anna admitted. "Well, I just…I didn't forgive her just for Elsa's sake, I guess. I did it because I was tired of being angry and hurt all the time. You just have to," she gestured vaguely in the air. "Let it go."

"Let it go?"

"Yeah. Just let it go."

"Let it go…" Eleanor seemed to stare in the distance for a moment. "You guys won't let me _not _forgive her, will you?"

"No," Anna said, "And you shouldn't have to worry about us kicking you out if we did decide not to let you write the musical—we would never do that to you." Elsa nodded in agreement.

Eleanor got up. "Fine. But Michelle better at least give me a half-apology…"

* * *

Eleanor was starting to get worried.

"I checked the music room—nothing. I checked her room—nothing. But her coat is gone, and so is her notebook. You don't think she left during the night, did you?"

"Of course not," Anna said, "The castle is big, she could have just decided to, um, randomly walk through the halls or something, right?"

"None of the servants saw her either. I asked."

"I'm sure she's fine," Anna assured her, "She left most of her other stuff, didn't she? If she wasn't planning on coming back—_if _she left—she wouldn't have left those behind, right?"

"Right…" Eleanor did not sound convinced. The stuff she had left behind were stuff she had acquired while in the castle—the coat and her notes were the only things she took. Eleanor wouldn't put it past her sister to leave behind everything else out a sense of pride or something.

"I know what'll make you feel better," Anna said, grabbing her friend's hand. "Elsa is going to make an ice skating rink outside. You want to skate?"

"Sure!"

She walked outside with Anna, into the courtyard, where Elsa was preparing to create an ice rink. While people filed in with ice skates, Eleanor managed to climb up onto the castle wall.

"The view is awesome up here!" Eleanor called down to Anna. "You can see every—" Her eyes almost popped out of her head. She jumped off the wall, miraculously not breaking or spraining her ankle. A figure was stumbling toward the castle. A very familiar figure, soaking wet.

"Michelle!" Eleanor ran up to her; she seemed to barely be able to stand. She looked almost _blue_. "What happened to you? I was worried sick! I still am, you look awful!"

Michelle looked at her sister, shakily lifting her hand to hand her the notebook. "I figured out how to write the song," she breathed, before collapsing in her sister's arms.


	11. Let It Go pt 3

Michelle woke up in the same room Anna had described when she spoke about Hans's betrayal. A fire was roaring in the fireplace, and Michelle tried to move, only to realize two things; every inch of her body ached, and she seemed to be swaddling in several layers of blankets like a baby. It took a bit of struggling for her to get her hands free.

"…Where am I…?" she asked to no one in particular.

"Back in the castle," A voice said. She looked to her right to see that Eleanor had brought a chair into the room. "Feeling okay?"  
Michelle winced. "Not particularly…"

"GOOD!" Eleanor shouted. "What were you thinking? Running off to…to…I have no idea!"

"North Mountain," Michelle croaked.

"North Mountain, like an idiot, without telling anyone, not even leaving a note—you're lucky you didn't get frostbite! You're lucky you've only got a fever and not pneumonia! You're lucky it turns out Elsa can absorb cold from other people or else you might be dead! I thought…I thought…" she buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "I thought I k-killed my s-sister!"

"Eleanor, it's alright," Michelle managed to croak out, even with her sore throat.

"And the l-last thing I t-told you was that I w-wished Anna was m-my sister—"

"I know, but it wouldn't have been your fault if I died," Michelle said, "You certainly didn't tell me to take a hike in the mountains or jump off a cliff—"

"_JUMP_ OFF A _CLIFF_?" Eleanor screamed. "WHAT WERE YOU _DOING_ UP THERE?"

Michelle winced at her sister's screams, rubbing her head. She had an awful headache, and Eleanor noticed. "Sorry," she said softly. "What were you doing, please…?"

"I thought if I went off the mountain, especially after having a fight with you," Michelle explained, trying to sit up and failing, "I would be able to get inside Elsa's head, and be able to get a handle on her emotions during the scene…I was rather desperate honestly. Song writing is hard—don't give me that smug look Elle, I admit it, alright?—and I thought maybe retracing Elsa's steps and imagining how she felt, alone in such a desolate place, would work."

"That's great…but the cliff?"

"I found Elsa's ice castle. But there was this giant staircase leading up to it, and it had been destroyed. I kept trying to find a way around it, and…well; you know Elsa's snow monster you thought was so cool? I ran into him. He didn't take very kindly to me being there. I tried to run away and he cornered me to the edge of a cliff…I had no choice. I jumped."

"It couldn't have been that high."

"No, it was. But there was twenty feet of snow below because we were so far up, so it was…actually a bit like landing on a pillow. A pillow that left me covered with snow and freezing wet, which is why I decided at that point to head back." A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she looked around frantically.

"My notes! Eleanor, I had everything ready, I know I can write Elsa's song now, I just need to get to a piano—"

"Are you crazy?" Eleanor asked. "Your notebook is on the side table. But you are not going anywhere. You need to stay in here and keep warm!"

"But the song, I need to write it—"

"I'll write it," Eleanor said adamantly. "I looked at your notes. They'll be a big help, I think I've even already got some ideas." She walked over to Michelle, gently pushing her back down on the couch.

"But…the song…I thought you didn't want to…" Michelle answered weakly, exhaustion overtaking her again after her burst of adrenaline.

"If it keeps you from getting up like an idiot and making yourself worse, I have to, don't I?" Eleanor answered. "And don't you _dare_ get up you jerk." She took her arms, tightening the blankets around her again.

Michelle fell asleep almost instantly. Eleanor had never noticed how tired her sister always looked until now…

"It's my turn to take care of you for once," Eleanor whispered, closing the door.

* * *

Eleanor couldn't believe how much work her sister had put into the notes. It was as though she was looking at blueprints:

_The reason our previous attempts at writing Elsa's song failed was because we took a completely negative approach to Elsa's emotions. In this song, Elsa would be conflicted. It would start sadly, perhaps in the first verse, only for her to realize that finally she is free to be herself. However, in reality, she is more alone than she has ever been. Elsa will be singing animatedly about how she will never be unhappy again, how her life will now be everything she ever wanted—but even if she doesn't realize it, she is trying to convince herself. She realizes, deep inside, that the ice castle she creates is just a new form of imprisonment. _

_ Note: This is a point where the audience should fear for the fate of Elsa's soul. Mention something about a storm. The storm inside of her? Or the storm in Arendelle? As she sings about how she no longer has any limitations set upon her and doesn't care what anyone thinks, does this mean that Elsa no longer cares if she uses her powers for good or evil? On the surface, the song will be empowering, but looking deeper it will be much more than that. It will be the biggest moment of character development in the entire show for Elsa._

"Wow…" Eleanor breathed. "That is impressive." At the same time, she smiled; the note especially was a bit melodramatic—typical of her. She thought about Michelle, collapsing in her arms, and now recovering in front of the fire. She said she didn't care if they liked the show or not…but she walked up a mountain and almost got killed by a snow monster because she wouldn't give up.

Now Eleanor felt like the jerk. She needed to take what her sister gave her, and turn it into the greatest thing she'd ever written.

"FOR MICHELLE!" Eleanor shouted, and began scribbling as fast as she could.

For the next three days Michelle slipped in and out of consciousness. She could vaguely recall some things—soup being poured down her throat as she was encouraged to swallow, Eleanor sitting next to her and asking her how she was feeling in a whisper—but for the most part until day four she was sleeping.

"Hey sis, how ya' feeling today?" Eleanor asked cheerily, opening the door. "Oh good, you're awake!"

"I think my fever broke," Michelle said, sitting up and holding a mug of hot chocolate in her hand. "Did you bring me the hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, Anna helped me make it…I accidently set fire to my hair like three times."

Michelle chuckled a little. "Well, it was very nice. Thank you."

They looked at each other for a moment longer.

"…So, you're a hundred percent now?"

Michelle nodded. "You know, I am still slightly achy, but the fever broke and I my voice feels much bett—"

The couch she was sitting on was almost knocked over from the force of Eleanor's hug.

"I didn't want to do this before because I didn't want to get sick," Eleanor cried, "But I'm SO SORRY!"

"It's okay," Michelle wheezed, "I wasn't…being…fair."

"But I had no right to say you don't care about me, you do, you take really good care of me 'Chelle, even now if we don't have enough food for both of us you always make sure I'm the one who eats, and I never appreciated it before—and when I said I wished Anna was my sister, that was so _mean, _I swear I didn't mean it—"

"Eleanor," Michelle said, "…I forgive you. But I'm…kind of…dying."

Eleanor let go of her sister, smiling sheepishly. "Really?" She asked.

"Of course. Even though you shouldn't be apologizing at all. I was a jerk. I mean, look at me. I decided I'd rather climb a mountain and get chased by a snow monster than admit that I can't do this show without you." She shrugged. "Can we just forget this ever happened? I just want to…"

"Let it go?" Eleanor asked pointedly.

"Uh…sure. Let it go."  
Eleanor grinned. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a new stack of papers. "Speaking of which…"

**_Author's Note: Thanks again for all of the reviews! I practically live of of them guys, you are all awesome. And don't worry, I promise in the next chapter Michelle and Eleanor will be performing Let It Go in all of its spectacular glory!_**


	12. Let It Go pt 4

Elsa and Anna sat alone in the music room, waiting for Eleanor and Michelle to enter.

"So what do they have for us today?" Elsa asked Anna. "Nothing like 'Love is an Open Door' I hope…"

"Nope," Anna answered cheerily, "I think this time they're doing a song for you."

Elsa shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Really?"

"Come on Elsa, what are you afraid of?" Anna asked, patting her sister on the shoulder. "I mean, whatever they have you do, it can't be worse than what they're doing with me."

"I don't know…I just don't have…" She gestured vaguely in the air. "A good feeling about this whole thing. I haven't from the beginning."

"You just won't give them a chance." Anna said, "Eleanor is really nice. And Michelle is…I don't know, but she's not _that_ unpleasant I guess. Even if she is a little crazy, trying to hike up to your castle and getting chased by a monster-"

"Wait, what?" Elsa asked, eyes widening.

"Eleanor never told you why Michelle came home all sick?"

"No, she didn't." Elsa said, crossing her arms.

"Well, Eleanor told me about it," Anna answered. "Michelle was trying to write your song, but she couldn't, so she thought if she pretended she was you walking alone up North Mountain it would help."

"Oh God…Marshmallow is still up there…and my castle too?"

"You named the ice monster that tried to kill us _Marshmallow_?" Anna asked incredulously.

"He really was a sweetheart when he wanted to be," Elsa said flippantly. "But that's not the point. I don't like the fact that…I don't know why I don't like it. Every time we read this script I feel _awful _listening to it."

Anna listened to her quietly. "You're doing what you did before, you know."

"What is that supposed to mean, Anna?"

"You don't want to do a musical because you want to pretend that stuff never happened, right?" Anna asked, "But it _did_ happen Elsa. Trying to make everyone not talk about it ever again is stupid. You're trying to run away from it like you ran away after your coronation."

Elsa looked away from her. She suddenly wished she had worn her hair down instead of up; she wanted to let it down, to shield her face from view. "I just don't want people to know that I almost killed my own sister." She said softly.

"Except you didn't do it on purpose," Anna insisted. "It was an _accident_. I forgave you for it; Arendelle has no reason not to."

"They have no reason not to, but I see a scenario where their emotions might cloud their judgment." Elsa answered.

"Then they're stupid," Anna answered simply.

Elsa smiled appreciatively. "Thank you Anna—wait a minute." She frowned again. "There's just one thing I don't understand."

"What?"

"How did she walk all the way up to my castle in one night?" Elsa asked. "I mean, I was able to walk up there because the weather didn't slow me down—but you and Kristoff needed—"

"MY SLED!" Kristoff threw open the door to the room, standing in the doorway with his arms spread out. "Anna, have you seen my sled? I can't find it anywhere! And Sven went missing this morning, and he just came back covered in icicles—"

He couldn't finish, as Anna had erupted into laughter, clutching onto her sister for support. Elsa, for her part, almost managed to keep a completely straight face and look at Anna disapprovingly. Almost.

* * *

"You stole Kristoff's sled _and_ Sven?" Eleanor asked. It wasn't exactly anger, more disbelief.

Michelle sighed. "How many times do we have to go through this? Mistakes were made that night Eleanor. Mistakes were most definitely made."

"Well, what happened to the sled?"

"For all I know? Crushed by that monster. Or else it's still there. No idea how Sven managed to untie himself from it." Michelle did not particularly care. Kristoff was dating the Princess of Arendelle; how difficult could it be for him to get a new one? She shrugged. "What I really want to know is…remind me why_ I'm_ singing 'Let It Go'?"

"Because it's your song, 'Chelle," Eleanor gave her a friendly punch in the arm. "You'll do fine! You have a great voice."

"You wrote it."

"With your notes. You're the one that climbed up a mountain for this thing."

"But I—" Michelle started, but the door was thrown open and Michelle pushed in.

"Hey guys!" Eleanor said, waving. "We got a new song for you. Ready Michelle?"

"Er…yes." She walked to the middle of the room. Anna leaned in to listen. Elsa sat calmly, her legs crossed and hands clasped together in her lap.

"I…I know you both aren't completely approving of where we've gone with the script so far," Michelle said, "So I've taken special care with this song so you know how dedicated we are to this project."

Elsa nodded. "Go on."

Suddenly Michelle wasn't sure if she had fully recovered. Her throat felt sore, she didn't think she could hold the note at the end and everything would implode and she'd be a laughingstock.

"This song is the biggest moment in the show for you, Queen Elsa. I…um…Eleanor thought it would be appropriate if I sang it, so I could act it out for you sort of, and Eleanor will read the stage direction while she's playing."

"That sounds like fun!" Anna said encouragingly. "Go ahead; we can't wait to hear it."

Michelle took a deep breath. "Okay Eleanor," she said, grabbing the lyrics sheet from the piano. "Go ahead?"

Eleanor nodded encouragingly. "Okay," she cleared her throat. "Scene: The entire stage is dark except for a singly spotlight on Elsa. She walks to the middle of the stage, stops, looks around, and sings." She began playing the music, and Michelle began to sing.

"_The snow glows white on the mountain tonight,_

_ Not a footprint to be seen, _

_ A kingdom of isolation,_

_ And it looks like…I'm the queen. _

_ The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside,_

_ Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I've tried…_

_ Don't let them in, don't let them see,_

_ Be the good girl you always have to be._

_ Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know…"_

"Elsa removes her glove and throws it off stage." Eleanor read.

_"Well now they know!"_

"With every movement of her arms, lights that indicate snow briefly light parts of the stage."

_"Let it go, let it go,_

_ Can't hold it back anymore!_

_ Let it go, let go…_

_ Turn away and slam the door!_

_ I don't care, what they're going to say,_

_ Let the storm rage on…_

_ The cold never bothered me anyway."_

"Elsa removes her cape and throws it off stage." Eleanor read again.

Michelle was starting to get more comfortable. Anna was grinning, tapping her hand to the beat of the song. Elsa's expression was unreadable. Michelle allowed herself to relax a little, smiling as she continued.

_"It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small,_

_ And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all!_

_ It's time to see what I can do,_

_ To test the limits and break through._

_ No right no wrong, no rules for me…_

_ I'm free!"_

She went into the melody again, almost forgetting that the others were there. Michelle didn't do it often, but now she was having _fun_. She knew the song was good, but singing it was a whole new level of awesome. She couldn't help but get into character as she grinned, throwing her hands in the air.

_"Let it go, let it go!_

_ I am one with the wind and sky!_

_ Let it go, let it go!_

_ You'll never see me cry!_

_ Here I stand, and here I stay!_

_ Let the storm rage on…"_

"Elsa moves her arms like an orchestra conductor," Eleanor said, "And the lights slowly illuminate the entire stage, signifying the creation of Elsa's ice palace." Michelle fought the urge to laugh as she waited for when it was time to sing again. Elsa, at this point, had her head tilted to the side as though she was curious.

_"My power flurries through the air and into the ground…_

_ My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around!_

_ And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast…_

_ I'm never going back…the past is in the past!"_

"Elsa takes her crown off her head and throws it into the distance!" Eleanor shouted ecstatically, looking at her sister in awe. Elsa's hand, perhaps without her even realizing, inched toward her hair and took her own crown off of her head.

_"Let it go, let it go!_

_ And I'll rise like the break of dawn!_

_ Let it go, let it go,_

_ That perfect girl is gone!_

_ Here I stand, in the light of day…_

_ Let the storm rage on!"_

Michelle paused for a moment after hitting that last, triumphant note.

"The cold never bothered me anyway…" she finished, breathing heavily. She looked down at her hands. She couldn't believe she had just done that—had she actually just done that? She looked to Eleanor for confirmation. She was staring at Michelle, looking like a proud parent.

"Congratulations sis," she said, "I think _you've_ just become a musician."

Anna jumped out of her seat. "That was so cool! You got so into it, you made Elsa sound so awesome—" her face fell for a moment. "Why couldn't my song have been that good? Well, either way, congratulations!"

"Thank you Princess Anna," Michelle said, "But—and I hope you don't take this the wrong way—I'm actually more interested in what Queen Elsa thought of this."

All four pairs of eyes stared at Elsa. She bit her lower lip.

"The lyrics," she said. "May I look at the lyrics?"

"Oh," Michelle walked up to her, putting the papers in her hand. "Of course. Why?" She asked, rubbing her arm anxiously.

She frowned for a moment, looking down at them. She seemed to be mouthing them to herself.

"Because," she finally answered, smiling as she thumbed the pages, "I'd like your sister to play this again."

Eleanor was too shocked to make any noise; both she and Michelle sighed in relief. Michelle gave her a nod and Eleanor played the song again, Elsa and Anna doing their best to join in.

For the first time since they had began, Michelle felt like this was more than just a silly musical. She had something. Something emotional, something important.

And as she stopped singing for the second time, grinning at Elsa, who's face radiated joy as she asked for a third sing-through, she couldn't help but also think: _Something that's the best thing I've ever done._


	13. Olaf's Audition

**Author's Note: Thanks again to all my reviewers! Especially the person who said Eleanor should have been the one singing Let It Go at the Oscars—I'm sure she'd freak out if someone told her that. :P**

Since Let It Go was written, Michelle was inspired more than ever to finish the show. For the first time, she wasn't writing it partially because she was desperate for money; she felt an emotional attachment to the project.

"I still don't know how we're going to add the snowman," she said to Eleanor one day.

"What?"

"Look here," Michelle pointed to a part of the script. "This is the part where Anna and Kristoff should be meeting Olaf. But having a person dress up like him on stage would just be ridiculous. It would be way too distracting to the audience."

"So, what do you want to—"

They both jumped a little; the door to Michelle's room opened unexpectedly. Standing in the doorway was a small snowman. "Did someone call me-Oooh, we haven't seen each other, have we?" Olaf asked, waving. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

"Oh my God, why have we never seen him around here before?" Michelle asked. She looked at Eleanor. "Have you seen him around here before?"

"No," Eleanor said, staring, "But he is the most adorable creature I have _ever _seen." She grinned, walking over and scooping the little snowman up into a hug as he giggled.

"Of course," Michelle said under her breath, "When _she _meets one of Elsa's snow creatures, it's cute and harmless. When I do, it tries to _kill_ me."

"Michelle! He's _ticklish_!" Eleanor squealed in delight as she tickled Olaf's stomach, the little snowman howling in laughter.

A smile flicked across Michelle's face for a fraction of a second—he _was_ cute. "Eleanor, put him down," Michelle said sternly, "We need to keep writing the show. We've gone too long without a song…"

"Ooooh!" Olaf jumped out of Eleanor's arms. "You're writing the show now? Can I help?" he bounded to the middle of the room. "I love singin' and dancin'!" he began doing a dance routine in the middle of the room to prove it.

"Olaf—" Michelle began, about to gently suggest he should leave, but Eleanor covered her mouth.

"We should totally put him in the show." Eleanor said; Olaf didn't notice them speaking. He was concentrating too hard on his dancing.

"What?" Michelle whispered back. "I don't know how well he'll be able to follow stage directions…besides, can he even sing?"

"It doesn't matter how good he is," Eleanor insisted, "He just needs to look cute. Every musical needs comic relief, right? He could ad-lib the entire thing and the audience would _adore_ him."

Michelle's face screwed up in deep thought, contemplating this turn of events. She honestly didn't know how she was planning on writing Olaf—but certainly not like this little snowman was acting. Michelle wrote serious dramas. She'd never written a character purely for 'comic relief' in her entire life.

Eleanor said, "You said the show would be ridiculous if we had a person play Olaf, right? What better way to solve that problem than to use the real one right here?"

As if on cue, Olaf stopped his dancing solo, attempting to land in a split. His head fell off his torso from the impact, rolling toward Michelle's feet.

"TA-DA!" Olaf's head said, looking up at her.

Michelle kneeled down. "Are you, uh…okay?"

"Oh, this happens all the time," Olaf assured her, "But do you mind…?"

Michelle picked up his head. "So, do you like what you've heard about the musical so far?" She asked awkwardly.

Olaf gasped, and then his face broke out into a grin. "Oh YES!" he shouted excitedly, causing Michelle to hold him away at arm's length, "It sounds so cool!"

Eleanor looked like she was staring at a diamond. "He _needs_ to be in this show Michelle."

Olaf smiled, looking at Michelle. "Oh, can I? It would be so fun, almost as fun as visiting Elsa's ice palace and being impaled by one of her icicles!"

"Oh, I don't know Olaf," Michelle said, reattaching the snowman to his body. "I mean, you've only been alive for about three months—not sure if you're quite ready—"

"He can do it!" Eleanor insisted, "I can teach him to sing and everything. I'll even write him a song."

"Won't that be a little…?" Michelle leaned in so Olaf couldn't hear her. "Jarring? Just randomly having him start singing?"

"Give me one night," Eleanor said, patting the little snowman on the head, "And we'll be ready for you by tomorrow. I can prove it to you; he'll be great in the cast! Right Olaf?"

"That sounds like fun!" They both looked at Michelle with wide puppy-dog eyes.

"Please?" They asked in unison. Michelle groaned.

"Fine. But one shot," She said, holding up a finger. "To prove you could be in a professional quality show. Okay?" She rubbed her temples. "But I think I'm going to go down to dinner until then, alright?" She left the room. Listening to Olaf and Eleanor was starting to give her a headache.

* * *

Michelle spent the rest of the night on the main floor of the castle, eating dinner and then perusing the royal library.

She didn't return to her room until late at night. She couldn't help but overhear Eleanor and Olaf laughing about something hysterically as she walked past the music room. She really, really hoped she knew what she was doing—after the whole 'Let It Go' debacle, she tried to trust Eleanor's judgment more, but it was hard. Especially when it involved doing something that went against her entire writing style. It was true, she did sprinkle some humor into it, but Olaf would be dumping a bucketful onto the show. Did she really want to break away from the 'dramedy' of the script she was trying to create for a few cheap laughs?

She tried to get some sleep, but it seemed like she had just closed her eyes when a 'whoosh' of air left her lungs as something jumped on her chest.

"AUGH!" Michelle rolled out of bed, scrambling up so she was standing. "What the—"

"Hey!" Olaf, who had fallen on the ground next to her, waved. "Gooood morning!"

"What—what are you—it's morning? Did you really have to _jump on me_ to wake me up?"

"Oh…well, your sister told me that this is how you always get woken up." He said innocently. "She told me she normally shakes you really hard, but I don't really have a lot of arm strength, so when that didn't work I jumped on your bed."

Michelle realized, as her eyes flitted toward the slightly opened door, that her sister was waiting outside—with Anna and Elsa no less!—trying not to laugh.

Michelle's mouth hung open, and then she grit her teeth. "Right. Of course Eleanor told you that." She said, trying to force a smile. "Did you finish the song?"

"Yes I did!" Olaf said. "Wanna' see it?"

"Absolutely. I would _very_ much like to leave the room."

On the way out, Olaf running ahead of them, she grabbed Eleanor by the arm. She didn't even care that Elsa and Anna were watching.

"If I agree to do this," Michelle hissed, "Can you please not tell him to be my own personal alarm clock?"

"But it was funny," Eleanor whined.

"Yes, but you're taking advantage of his stu—naivety," Michelle finished, not wanting to insult him in front of his 'biggest fans'.

"Aw, you care, huh?" Anna teased, "Admit it; he's growing on you too."

The three laughed while Michelle fell into embarrassed silence. Whenever the four of them were together it always seemed to be a 'them vs. her' mentality. She didn't enjoy it.

"I think you will be surprised Miss Belmonte," Elsa said as they walked through the doorway into their music room, "Olaf is much more intelligent than he lets on. You just have to be careful, since he's so…excitable."

"I hate to tell you this, Queen Elsa," Michelle answered, taking a seat, "But after the last time, I am a little wary of meeting anything you've made out of snow."

"Well maybe he just didn't like visitors." Elsa said, still teasing her good-naturedly.

Michelle frowned; being woken up the way she did, she was not in a good mood. "Well maybe you shouldn't have made a giant monster to kick your own sister out in the first place—"

"Ooookay," Eleanor interrupted, playing scales on the piano to cut what might have been a tense moment. Elsa just stared at Michelle, mouth formed in an 'o' of shock before turning her attention back to Olaf. "Olaf, you ready?"

Olaf bounded to the middle of the room. Michelle noticed he took it upon himself to grab a cane and a hat for the 'performance'. Michelle fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"We call this song 'In Summer'," Eleanor explained, "Because Olaf said when he was created his biggest dream was to see what summer would be like. Here we go…"

Michelle's eyebrows shot up. A snowman that dreamed of being warm? She had to admit that was…interesting. Eleanor began playing the music, Olaf singing.

She wasn't impressed, for the most part. His singing seemed to be, at most, decent. Anna and Elsa, of course, were smiling like proud parents. But objectively, did Michelle think this was something to have in the show? The answer was no. It was completely superfluous.

She was preparing to say no, until Olaf broke into his tap dancing routine.

"Da-da-da-do, do-do," Olaf hummed, swinging his cane and walking around in circles. "Winter's a good time to stay in and cuddle, put me in summer and I'll be a—"

_Puddle?_ Michelle thought.

Olaf jumped in the air. "HAPPY SNOWMAN!"

Michelle couldn't help it. She started laughing along with the others, and Olaf finished his last note (which _was_ rather impressive) to rousing applause; even Michelle clapped her hands lightly.

"Thank you guys!" Olaf said, bowing.

All eyes were on Michelle. She cleared her throat.

"Er—well," Michelle started, "For your first audition that was very good Olaf."

He bit his lip in excitement. "Do I get to be in the show?"

Michelle looked at all the hopeful faces in the room. On one hand, she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of a comedic snowman in the show. On the other…what kind of writer didn't get out of her comfort zone once and awhile?

"Congratulations, Olaf," Michelle finally said, kneeling to shake the little snowman's hand. "You are officially playing the part of 'Olaf' in 'The Snow Queen'."

Olaf practically jumped for joy, almost having his head fall off again, running around the room in circles.

"I told you Olaf would impress you," Michelle turned to see Elsa looking at her.

"Yes, well," Michelle shrugged. "It was really a three to one vote, wasn't it?"

"I knew you'd like it sis!" Eleanor ran over to Michelle, clapping her on the back. "Say, since I already wrote a song today…" Anna walked up next to her.

"…Kristoff said Elle could come with us for a morning ride in his new sled! We'll see you guys at lunch."

Eleanor waved her hands animatedly as she walked away and told Anna how excited she was to go on a sled for the first time ("In Forever?" Anna said jokingly, giving her a playful punch on the shoulder).

"Be careful—"

"—It looks like rain, don't get caught or you'll get sick." Michelle and Elsa called out at the same time. They eyed each other suspiciously.

"Wow," Olaf walked in between Elsa's legs, going out the door himself. "You guys must be really good friends to say the exact same thing like that." He waddled out of the room himself, mentioning something about practicing his 'dance moves'.

Michelle's gaze softened somewhat, watching the retreating snowman; she looked at Elsa out of the corner of her eye. "About what I...implied before, with your ice monster…"

"It's okay," Elsa interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "You _were_ right, at any rate, weren't you?"

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I guess I'm on my own today. I'll work on the script before lunch."

Elsa looked at her, raising one eyebrow quizzically. "Do you ever do anything _besides _work?"

Michelle shrugged. "No, not really."

Silence again.

"I don't have anything to do for the rest of the day." Elsa said after a moment, "Which is rare, but I got my work finished early last night…which means that we are both 'in the same boat' as some people might say." She gestured toward the hallway. "How much of the castle have you seen?"

Michelle's brow furrowed. "Kitchen, my room, the library (which is amazing, by the way), this room of course—that's it."

"You've never seen any of the other rooms?" Elsa smiled, chuckling. "Your sister must have slid down every hallway with Anna at least three times since she got here."

"Well, I have a lot of work." She looked at her. "You sound like you want to give me a tour."

"Do you want one?" She asked. "Neither of us have anything to do—and our sisters would probably appreciate that we did something that did not involve a 'death glare'—Anna used that term."

Michelle considered it.

"Sure." She answered. She had just cast a talking snowman for her musical; she felt like she was up for anything today.


	14. Elsa and Michelle

The two soon found out that talking to each other would not be as awkward as they thought at the beginning; Elsa soon took the role of tour guide, spouting off every scrap of information she knew about the castle, and the morning was spent with Michelle barely saying a word.

Elsa could see that Michelle thinking to herself as they went through the castle; she was planning out the show, no doubt.

"Anything jump out at you in particular?" Elsa asked, as they both settled down in the parlor.

Michelle bit her lower lip before finally saying, "The paintings were lovely."

"Ah yes," Elsa said, smiling, "Most of those paintings are originals from Arendellian artists."

"They would make excellent scenery," Michelle continued. "I mean, not those original pieces, but reproductions, enlarged so the audience could see them. I should see if I can incorporate a scene that takes place in that room."

Elsa nodded, sipping her tea to fill in the silence that fell between them.

"…What's coming out of your mouth?" Michelle asked, staring at Elsa's face.

"What? Oh," she laughed lightly. "I forgot about this, haven't I? I'm so cold that when I drink hot beverages, it makes steam." She drank again, blowing a stream of vapor from her mouth.

"That's interesting."

"Yes—Anna thought it was fascinating, when she found out. Sometimes I'd get her to do things for me if I agreed to drink a cup of hot chocolate. Of course, after a bit she got used to it."

Michelle nodded, smiling lightly. "You should show my sister—does it sound like it's raining?" She strained her ears. "I think it's raining. I hope they come back in soon."

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Elsa answered. "Kristoff is a very capable sled rider."

Elsa looked at Michelle quizzically. The writer noticed. "Something on your mind, Queen Elsa?"

"Well, nothing really," Elsa answered. "I was just thinking about how I don't know a lot about where you and your sister came from."

Michelle's grip tightened slightly around her mug. "You know that already. My sister and I are orphans—"

"Well, yes, but I don't really know a lot about the two of you other than that." Elsa pointed out.

"Like what?"

"When did your parents die, how long you've both been homeless, information along those lines." Elsa answered.

"That's rather personal, don't you think?" Michelle asked, sipping her drink casually.

"I'm allowing you to publish my life story with songs. I don't think you're in the position to demand privacy from me."

Michelle smiled dryly. "I have to admit you have a point. Though I will say there's nothing about my life that could be made into a story of any kind…if you must know, our parents died when I was seven. Eleanor was five. They caught a sickness; I'm not even sure where they're buried."

"How could you not know where they were buried?" Elsa asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"We couldn't afford a proper funeral," Michelle answered, sighing. "Eleanor stayed home while I went to see them buried, but they didn't even get their own headstone. It was a paupers grave, among at least dozens of others."

Elsa's gaze softened, only to change to shock. "Eleanor wasn't _there_?"

"No." Michelle answered curtly. She sipped her drink again, trying to ignore the imploring look Elsa was giving her.

"Why wasn't your sister at her parents' funeral?" Elsa finally asked.

Michelle sighed, trying to decide whether to become angry or just answer the question. She finally decided on downplaying it as much as possible, and hopefully Elsa would change the subject.

"My sister was absolutely devastated," Michelle answered. "And I didn't want to make it worse by forcing her to watch mother and father dumped on top of each other into a hole in the ground. So I made her stay home." She shrugged, averting her eyes, becoming very interested in the steam rising from her drink.

Elsa only stared at her, mouth hanging open. "…I made Anna bury our parents alone," She said softly.

"Yes, well, opposite actions, same general motives. You did it to protect Anna physically; I did it to protect Eleanor emotionally."

"It must have been hard for you." Elsa said.

"Eleanor never knew if it was," Michelle answered. "I've never let her see me upset. Angry, yes. Disappointed, yes. But I've never cried in front of my sister."

Elsa thought that it might have been time to change the topic, but suddenly Michelle seemed very interested in sharing; she continued talking. Elsa realized with a jolt that, if she never talked about any of this with her sister, this was probably the first time she talked about it with _anyone_.

"When my parents were alive, and we would have money problems," Michelle continued, "I would ask them sometimes if we were going to run out of money. They would tell me that since they were the parents, it was their job not to let us worry about anything we couldn't do anything about. I'm the one taking care of Eleanor now, so it's my job to make sure she doesn't worry about anything that she can't do anything about. Like if I am upset." She finished, straightening up a little with pride.

Elsa couldn't help but think of her old mantra 'conceal don't feel'. No wonder Michelle was so serious. She constantly reigned herself in for her sister's sake. Was it any wonder that she was closed in and Eleanor wasn't? Elsa was at a loss for words; awkward silences seemed to be ruling the conversation today—

"When I was little, Anna would always try and think of ways to get me out of my room," Elsa blurted out. She mentally chastised herself. What did that have to do with anything?

"Oh, really?" Michelle answered, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Yes. She would leave little piles of chocolate outside my door to lure me outside."

"Whenever Eleanor wanted to play with me and I was writing something, she'd threaten to hold her breath until she passed out."

"So did Anna!"

"I bet she didn't do it for so long she turned _blue_."

"I can beat that. Anna did it for so long once that she passed out!"

"You're kidding!" Michelle answered, laughing.

"Oh, it's funny now," Elsa answered, "But at the time I was horrified. She threatened to hold her breath, and I told her to leave me alone. About a minute later I heard a thump and when I opened the door Anna was unconscious. The servants needed to put smelling salts under her nose." Elsa frowned a little. "Perhaps not coincidentally, she gave up on trying to make me come out after that."

They finished their drinks. The silence ruled again, but it was a companionable one this time.

"But, come to think of it," Elsa said, "It _is_ starting to get dark…where are those two—"

"GUYS!" Eleanor and Anna ran into the room. "We've been looking for you both! We just got back a few minutes ago!"

"My God Eleanor, what happened to you?" Michelle asked, putting a hand over her mouth in shock. She imagined this must have been similar to the way she looked coming down North Mountain.

"Oh, well," Eleanor answered, smiling sheepishly. "Wolf, bear—well, not a wolf-bear, a wolf _and _a bear—"

"Several wolves," Anna corrected, pulling a branch out of her hair. "And the bear didn't actually chase us, we just needed to swerve to avoid it and the sled tipped over. Which is how we got all covered with mud."

"We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Anna!" Eleanor said proudly, putting a muddy arm around her shoulder. "She fought the wolves off. With my guitar—by the way Michelle, Anna offered to give me a brand new guitar, isn't that nice?"

"Where is Kristoff?" Elsa asked.

"Hosing Sven off, he got covered in mud too." Eleanor answered. "We just wanted to tell you guys what happened so you wouldn't see us like, in the morning and be like 'how did you get so scratched up'?"

"So we're going to go and have dinner," Anna answered. "Fighting off wild animals makes you really, really hungry. See you guys!" The two waved enthusiastically before running off.

"Michelle, I guess we should join them," Elsa said, sighing. "But before we do…" she raised her drink again.

"To sisters," Elsa said, smiling at her. Michelle smiled back, gently tapping her own mug against hers.

"To sisters." She answered dryly, acknowledging her as, at the very least, an equal.


	15. Eleanor and Anna

**Author's note:** **Sorry this took so long to update guys! This chapter was really difficult to write…since Michelle and Elsa got a chapter, I thought Eleanor and Anna should get one as well. **

Anna was not used to being around people her own age. Sure, the servants did have children, but they didn't count; they were taught to treat Anna like a boss. Which she kind of was. So nobody was more excited about the fact that Eleanor and Michelle were staying with them than her.

Okay, maybe she was the only one excited, but Anna could tell Elsa was warming up to them. When Anna and Eleanor did something stupid, she'd even see Elsa and Michelle look at each other and roll their eyes. They were practically _best friends_ now.

And of course she and Eleanor got along great. She loved Elsa-she wouldn't even be alive if she didn't love her more than anyone—but she wasn't really into doing anything to outside-the-box. Eleanor was.

Like today, when Anna went into the music room to find her. "Eleanor!"

"Huh?" Eleanor's head shot up; there were red marks on it from falling asleep on the piano keys. "What'd I miss?"

Anna giggled. "Uh, nothing. I wanted to see if you wanted to do something…did you fall asleep in here?"

"Oh! Yeah, I was working really hard on this big duet you and Elsa are going to have and—wait, I fell asleep on the _piano_?" She began pressing the keys gently, putting her ear to the instrument. "I didn't hurt the keys, did I? God, this is an _ivory_ piano. If I ruined it I don't even know which obscenities I'd scream first."

"Eleanor, it's fine. If you broke it I can just get a new one. You know…" Anna shrugged. "Princess of Arendelle and everything?"

From the way Eleanor looked at her, Anna could tell she said the wrong thing. "Uh, or you can use it anyway, whatever…?"

"This is an ivory piano," Eleanor said again, still listening to it as she played a short scale, eyes fixed on her friend. "And I didn't care about you breaking the guitar, but…I don't know, I don't like how casual you're being about replacing instruments." She rubbed the bench fondly. "I've written so many songs on this thing. It's, like, a friend now or something."

Anna raised an eyebrow quizzically. "You treat the instruments like they're your friends?"

"And _you_ talk to paintings."

"Only because I had no one else to talk to!"

"Well, how many friends do you think a homeless traveling musician makes?" She said this jokingly, without any edge of anger or bitterness, but Anna felt guilt settle in her stomach.

"You weren't upset that I broke your guitar, did you?" Anna asked.

Eleanor stared at her for a moment, and then laughed. "Anna, you kidding me? I mean, at the end of the day…it's a guitar. A guitar that was owned by my mom, sure—"

"That was your _mom's_? Oh my gosh I'm such a horrible person—"

"-_Nevertheless,_ you used it to beat back a pack of vicious wolves. Like I said, Anna…I'll give you a pass. Now here," she made room on the bench, patting the spot next to her. "Come here and let me show you the big duet you're going to have with Elsa."

"Sure," Anna sat down next to her, looking at the sheet music. "I can't read music though?"

"The lyrics are what's important," Eleanor answered. "It's called 'Life's too Short'. I think it came out pretty well," She puffed up a little with pride. "I mean, I have a sister, so writing a song about two sisters was pretty easy."

But as Anna's eyes flicked across the page, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are we fighting?"

Eleanor stared at her, quirking an eyebrow. "What do you mean, why are you fighting? You ask her to come back, and she gets mad because she thinks you want her to hold herself back again. Then you get mad because she's trying to shut you out again."

"Well, no, I get that," Anna tried to explain. "It's just…I don't know. I guess…the fact that you have a sister is why the song doesn't work. Me and Elsa were pretty much strangers when I talked to her, honestly. We weren't really fighting, and we weren't being this passive aggressive." She pointed out one line. "Like this, 'you can think whatever you want because I don't care, you're a fool who married a stranger'—that's too mean for Elsa."

Eleanor bit her lower lip, staring the song herself. "But, you said you got into a fight. How do you get into a fight where you're not mad at each other?"

"I don't know…it was more like she just kept telling me over and over to go home, and I kept trying to tell her she could make the snow stop if she tried to, and eventually she couldn't stand me being there anymore and she kind of, like, exploded?"

"So you guys weren't mad at each other?"

"Yeah. I'm just afraid that this will make them confused. It looks a little bit like Elsa did it on _purpose _when you do the song this way. Plus," She sounded firmer, "I'm already letting you portray me as kind of ditzy, and I mean maybe I am, but I am not letting you portray Elsa in bad way. So you need to change it." She seemed to have surprised herself, and smiled sheepishly. "Uh, sorry. Didn't mean to sound like, bossy or anything!"

Eleanor nodded, seeming to be lost in deep thought for a moment. "You know what would be kind of funny? Elsa doesn't know Arendelle is frozen…what if she's like, 'hey Anna, stay away and that way you're safe'. And then you go—" She began tapping the piano keys experimentally, smiling in satisfaction when she seemed to hit a pleasing combination of notes, and began to sing:

"_Actually we're not._

_ What do you mean we're not?_

_ I get the feeling you don't know…_

_ What do I not know?" _She changed her voice with every line, trying to do an imitation of Elsa when she sang her parts. Eleanor looked at Anna expectantly. "And then you're like—"

"Arendelle's in deep, deep, deep, deep snow?" Anna suggested. Eleanor grinned broadly and gave her a hug.

"That's perfect! Check it out; you actually helped write a song. Of course, that's only a small part, but I'll work on the rest."

"So…you're just cutting out the old one? Like that?" Anna asked.

"I'll keep it—maybe I can use the melody or something for a different song." She sighed happily. "And…that's enough work for today. You said you wanted to do something?" She rested her chin on her hand, looking at her friend. Anna got up from the bench.

"Oh, yeah! I wanted to ask you…do you think it'd be fun if I got a mattress and used it to, like, ride down the stairs?" She rubbed her arm awkwardly. "I don't know, I think it sounds fun, we could go down the grand staircase with it…"

Eleanor shook her head. "That's a terrible idea; you can't use a spiral staircase. A mattress is too big, you could never turn a corner with it."

"Then what if I said we used a different staircase that wasn't a spiral staircase…?"

Eleanor's grin almost threatened to break the outline of her face. "Then that is probably the awesomest—er, or most awesome?—whatever. The most _awesome_ idea you've ever had."

Anna clapped her hands excitedly. "Thank you! Elsa said it was really dangerous and stupid."

"What do they know?" Eleanor answered, jumping out of her seat. "Her and Michelle are boring. They're not creative, awesome people like us. If there was nothing dangerous about it, it wouldn't be fun, right?" She grabbed Anna's hand, pulling her out of the room with her. "C'mon, we can use the one from my room!"

Later that night, when Eleanor was nursing a bruise with a piece of Elsa's slow-melting ice and getting lectured by Michelle on not being a 'responsible guest', she couldn't help but catch Anna's eye and smile. She was getting lectured by Elsa in almost the exact same way.

_"Worth it,"_ She mouthed to Anna, and she gave a small nod in agreement.


	16. The Finishing Touches

Michelle looked up from her writing one day to announce, "Eleanor, I think I've…I think I've finished."

Eleanor almost spit out the water she had been drinking, before realizing that she would spray water all over the piano. After coughing for several moments, she jumped out of her seat.

"What do you mean…you've finished?"

Michelle looked as surprised as her. "Well, we still need some songs, but look at this!" She picked up the paper, holding it in front of her. "Anna sacrificed herself to save Elsa and miraculously survives. And then I have the scene where Hans is sent back to the Southern Isles—Anna punches him, like we agreed—and then Anna and Kristoff have their big kiss. Olaf gets to enjoy summer; Elsa uses her powers to ice skate with Anna…what else is there to write?"

Eleanor snatched the paper from her hands, staring at it. "Oh my God," She breathed. "The script is done."

Michelle's mouth formed a small o; she began to laugh. "I've finished. God, this is the hardest thing I've ever written. But I did it! After everything I did, I've managed to finish this!" She grabbed her sister in a tight hug.

"Don't get excited yet," Eleanor said, returning the hug. "It's not done. We still need more songs. And when did you get so far ahead of me?"

"What did you think? That when I spent hours in my bedroom writing I was really just avoiding you?"

Eleanor smiled. "So if you hadn't been writing, you _totally_ would have agreed to hang out with me and Anna?"

Michelle frowned. "Not the point." She answered stiffly. Eleanor's smile widened, but she dropped it.

"Well, we still need another song." Eleanor said again. "After the reprise there isn't really…well, any of them."

"And Anna asked me when Kristoff was going to get his song," Michelle added. "He said he's been looking forward to seeing what he gets to do."

Eleanor looked shocked. "Oh, crap. I completely forgot about him!"

"You'll be able to think something up, won't you?"

"Uh…sure. Absolutely. Shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

"Okay…so, writing Kristoff's part is posing a pretty huge problem." Eleanor said, smiling sheepishly.

Michelle rubbed her temples with her fingers. "Eleanor, I left the room _two hours_ ago to give you space to work. You don't have anything?"

"It's not my fault!" Eleanor exclaimed. "Have you even talked to Kristoff? He's all stoic and man-of-few-words; you try making him burst into song without it looking ridiculous!"

"What, you can envision _Elsa_ singing show tunes?" Michelle answered.

"It's…it's…different," Eleanor answered weakly. "But for your information, ye of little faith, I don have something. It's just-"

"Show it to me then."

"But it's kind of embarrassing…"

"How bad could it be?"

Eleanor sighed, staring at the piano keys dejectedly. "Fine," she answered, and began to play:

_"Reindeers are better than people,_

_ Sven, don't you think that's true?"_

Her eyes flicked toward Michelle apprehensively for a moment, then threw caution to the wind, switching to a funny, growly voice which Michelle guessed was Sven.

_"Yes, people will beat you and curse you and cheat you,_

_ Every one of 'ems bad except you."_

She switched back to her regular voice.

"_But people smell better than reindeer,_

_ Sven, don't you think I'm right?"_

Back to her 'Sven' voice.

_"Yes that may be true, _

_ For all except you,"_

She finished in her regular voice.

"_Alright, you got me, goodnight…"_

Michelle stared blankly for a moment. "What did I just listen to?"

"Michelle, listen—"

"You seriously expect me to add a TALKING REINDEER into the show?"

"NO! Kristoff is only pretending that Sven talks," Eleanor explained, blushing as she realized how ridiculous she sounded. "He's the one doing the voice. I've seen him do stuff like that with Sven all the time. And Anna takes Kristoff by surprise, right? Maybe he's singing this before he notices she's there."

"It's just…I mean, really?"

"Well, you think of something better. We can always come back to it, right?"

Michelle sighed. "Right." Of course, they would realize later that it was never taken out. "I had an idea, actually. What if we added another reprise?"

"Where?"

"I don't know. But I loved the reprise you did with Elsa and Anna…What made you think to use a reprise of The First Time in Forever anyway?"

"Well, I kind of felt bad for making Anna sound like such a ditz in it," Eleanor explained, "So I guess that was sort of me making it up to her-" She smiled, an idea overtaking her. "I got an idea! What if we did a reprise of 'Do you wanna' Build a Snowman?"

"Where…no. I think I know exactly where it should be. Elsa should sing it when she thinks Anna is dead." She paced the room excitedly.

"YES! That's perfect! And…oh my gosh, remember that song we scrapped at the beginning? 'You're You'? What if Kristoff sings that to Anna at the end?"

"That is genius," Michelle answered. "Let's reconvene in the morning and figure this out?"

"Absolutely!"

* * *

"_Do you wanna' build a snowman?_

_I'm sorry that I made you wait._

_I never said how much I loved you_

_I always wanted to,_

_But it's too late…_

_Please just give me one chance,_

_Just one more try,_

_To make it up to you…_

_Do you wanna' build a snowman?"_

Unlike when she finished the first time, Eleanor was beaming as she finished and looked at her sister. "And then Anna wakes up and answers 'I do'. See? Like, Elsa never answered, but now Anna does, so it's kind of a symbolic thing—"

"I know Eleanor," Michelle answered, but she said it good-naturedly. "So, after that we insert 'You're you'—with a few embellishments to make it a bit more romantic—"

"And then we add 'Fixer Upper' into the troll scene, because we needed something or else it would have been too long in between songs—"

"And then…" They gazed at each other in awe. "We're finished."

They stared at each other for what seemed to be minutes before simultaneously screaming, "WE'VE FINISHED!" they hugged each other, saying it over and over again.

"All we need to do is show Elsa and Anna," Eleanor said, "But I'm sure they'll love it! I can't believe it! Almost two months here and we've finally finished everything—lyrics, music, script. _We've written a musical_."

Of course, Anna and Elsa were called in immediately. Anna squealed in delight as soon as she heard the news, giving Eleanor a hug and Michelle an enthusiastic handshake.

"We need to celebrate!" Anna exclaimed, racing out of the room toward the kitchen, "I'll bring back a bottle of champagne!"

Eleanor glanced at her sister, who looked at Anna's retreating back disapprovingly. "Elsa, don't you think Anna and Eleanor are a bit young…?"

"Normally, I would," Elsa answered, "But this is a special occasion, isn't it?"

"Yeah 'Chelle! A really special occasion. I think I've deserved a taste of champagne."

"If you treat your drinks like you treat your food, you won't stop at just a _taste_."

"We don't know if I've never had any before though, do we?"

Michelle was about to retort when Anna came back in the room, trying to balance four champagne glasses and the bottle. When she stumbled, Eleanor dived and grabbed the glasses before they hit the ground.

"…What?" She asked when the others stared in shock, "Just because I act like Anna doesn't mean I need to be _clumsy_ like her." She quickly handed the glasses out. "Now get this bottle open already!"

It proved to be an excellent party for four. Eleanor soon proved that she did, in fact, treat her drinks like she treated her food, and she and Anna ended up at the piano trying to do 'The First Time in Forever' reprise without messing up the lyrics and erupting into fits of laughter.

Michelle wasn't even finished with her first glass, keeping one hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Almost made it through the first verse that time guys," She called out, "Keep trying!"

She was startled when a hand—a very cold hand—rested lightly on her shoulder, and she turned around.

"Elsa," Michelle breathed, "You scared me."

"Sorry," Elsa answered, "I only wanted to say congratulations. And to thank you for writing the show."

"I should be thanking you—and of course congratulating you on having Michelle Belmonte write a show for you," She finished jokingly. "Of course, I don't see why we're celebrating. You haven't even seen the entire thing yet."

"I don't need to. I trust you and Eleanor now, and…well, I'm sorry," Elsa answered. "For treating you the way I did…I may have judged you a bit too harshly. I let my own insecurities affect how I saw you and that was wrong."

"Oh please," Michelle answered, rolling her eyes. "It wasn't that big a deal. I'm more sorry that you're going to find out I'm a jerk whether you're nice to me or not."

Elsa just smiled. "…Can you believe Eleanor is drunk and still playing the piano perfectly?"

Michelle looked back at Eleanor. "Well, she could probably play piano blind-folded, so I'm not that surprised." At this point, Eleanor and Anna were singing 'Let it Go'; they only remembered the words 'Let it Go' and were singing it over and over. "…Though I admit it is rather impressive in this instance."

"Anna," Elsa called out, "I think you and Eleanor need to go to bed."

"Wha…? But we haven't finished singin' yet!" Eleanor protested.

"Come on," Anna answered, taking Eleanor's arm. "And don't look so surprised Elsa, I only had one glass, I was just humoring Eleanor…I'll take her up to bed, okay?"

"I'll help you," Elsa answered. "Michelle, are you coming?"

"I need to clean up." Michelle answered, looking at the half empty glasses still scattered around the room.

Elsa looked at her. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"I'm very interested in what we're going to do now."

Michelle opened her mouth; then closed it. She stood completely still as Elsa left with Anna and Eleanor, staring into the distance in complete silence.

"We finished the musical," Michelle said to herself, "What _do_ we do now?"


	17. What to Do Next

Michelle couldn't tell if Eleanor's unusually reserved demeanor the next morning was due to the hangover or because she had the same thought Michelle could, but either way breakfast with Anna and Elsa was awkward.

"Why did you let me drink so much?" Eleanor slurred, chocking down her food. "I feel awful."

"I told you not to drink, Eleanor," Michelle answered. "It's not my fault you didn't listen."

"Just keep eating the oatmeal, Elle," Anna said gently, "You just need to get something else in your stomach."

Eleanor glared at Anna, but listened to her and attempted to keep eating.

"So…" Elsa started, looking at the other faces in the dining room, "I was just wondering, what are you planning to do with the musical now that it's finished?"

Michelle took a sip of her tea, wiping her mouth with her napkin before answering. "Well, now we need to sell it to a theatre company."

Elsa and Anna almost spit out their own drinks, before saying simultaneously, "You're _selling_ it?"

"Of course I'm selling it," Michelle answered defensively, holding her palms up. "What did you think I was going to do? Cast it, direct it, and get the money for it by myself?"

Elsa and Anna simply stared at her. "Oh my god, you actually _did_ think that."

"Well, you never said you weren't," Anna answered.

"I didn't think I needed to. Eleanor and I are the writers. It's our job to create the musical, and then someone else stages it."

"Wait, we're giving the script away?" Eleanor suddenly asked, her reactions a bit slower than most days.

"Yes. Listen, this is how it works."

"And how, exactly, is that?" Elsa asked.

"First, the writer creates a script. Now, there are several directions you can go from there, but I'm going to focus on what I do. The writer then goes to a theatre company, or an acting troupe, and presents their script. If they like it, they hire a director, who hires everyone else. Sometimes you're asked to come with them to talk to producers, who invest in the production. If all goes well, in about six weeks you go to opening night and see what they did to the show."

"Do you mean to say," Anna said, "That you don't see what they did to it until _opening night_?"

"Well, no," Michelle answered. "Once I sell the show to them, and they have the rights, then I can't tell them how to stage it. That's their job. I've never been a part of the rehearsal process."

"That's ridiculous!" Eleanor slammed her fork on the table; anger seemed to sober her up. "Michelle, how can you just give our show away?"

"We were under the impression," Elsa said, "That you both were doing everything. We trust both of you—I don't feel comfortable giving it away to strangers."

"That's ridiculous," Michelle reasoned, "They're directors, but all they can do is decide how it's staged. The script will stay exactly the same. And as long as that portrays you well—"

"Michelle, now you're just lying!" Eleanor said. She looked at Anna and Elsa. "The directors change the script all the time. Not in, like, huge ways, but they're noticeable. I remember Michelle complaining when she wrote her second show that they took out a bunch of lines."

"Eleanor!" Michelle responded angrily, "What are you trying to accomplish by telling them that?"

"I'm trying to convince you to let us direct it! Michelle, this is our show. We wrote it together. How could you just throw it someone else and not bother with it until opening night?"

"I've done that with all my other plays," Michelle answered.

"This is different," Eleanor said adamantly. "We practically poured our souls into this thing. God Michelle, you almost died so you could figure out how to write one of the songs. You're seriously telling me that you're not even a little bit more attached to this one than the others?"

Michelle was about to answer, but then fell silent. It was true, she realized; she did feel attached to the show, somewhat. It was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Selling it to a director felt like giving her own child up for adoption.

But on the other hand, parents need to let go of their kids, right? To let them grow on their own?

On the other hand…this was a script, not a child. And a feeling suddenly consumed her, overshadowing her insecurities: possessiveness. This show was hers. No one else was taking it. Whether she knew how to direct or not, whether she had even a clue on what to do first, Michelle didn't care.

"…We'd need producers," Michelle finally answered. "Financial investors. This show will cost a lot of money to put on—"

"Are you kidding me sis?" Eleanor got up, putting her arms around Elsa and Anna. "Hey, _Princess and Queen of Arendelle_, how would you like to invest in our show 'The Snow Queen'?"

"Wow, that sounds like it would be good," Anna answered. "I think I'll put up, like, however much money you guys will need."

"As will I," Elsa answered. Eleanor looked at Michelle smugly.

"There. Problem solved."

Michelle shook her head. "Anna, Elsa, you've already done a lot for us. Are you sure you want to put up all of the money? Putting on a huge show like this, especially with special effects, will be incredibly expensive."

"Don't worry Michelle!" Anna answered, "We have plenty of money. Heck, we can just order the treasury to print a bunch more money if we run low, I keep telling Elsa that—"

"Anna, how many times do I have to _tell_ you, if I make the treasury do that the economy would collapse—"

"—And anyway, of course we want to put up the money," Anna finished, ignoring Elsa, "Because this is our story. We want it done right, and we want our friends to be the ones directing it."

"I—I mean, I don't know how to direct," Michelle said. "I don't even know where to start."

"Every director needs to start somewhere, right?" Elsa asked, smiling. "Michelle, I'm sure you could do it. I wouldn't trust the most seasoned professional over you."

All of this flattery and proclamations of faith was giving Michelle a headache.

"Alright," She finally answered. "But all of you are helping me."

"YES!" Eleanor exclaimed, "WE'RE DIRECTORS...What do we do first?"

"I don't know," Michelle admitted. "I guess…the first thing we need is a rehearsal space. We don't need a theatre yet; that costs a lot of money, it's better to only rent it for a few days before the show starts."

"The ballroom," Elsa answered immediately. "That would be perfect. It's one large, open space."

"You're right, that would be," Michelle said, nodding her head and furrowing her brow in thought. "The next…I guess…would be to assemble a cast."

"So we just need to announce it, right?" Eleanor asked. "We can have Elsa make a big proclamation or whatever, and hold auditions in the ballroom too. Have all of the girls sing 'For the First Time in Forever' and 'Let it Go', have all the guys do 'You're You' and 'Reindeers are Better than People'."

"Could also work," Michelle said, nodding, "Though, from what little I do know, they only ask actors to sing songs from the show if there's a callback; otherwise they prepare their own. Hopefully we won't be indecisive and we can cast the show in one day."

"I can't believe we're doing this," Anna said excitedly, "This is going to be so much fun! Can we help cast the show? Oh I bet we'll have tons of people…"

Michelle stopped listening; she only heard what Anna first said.

She couldn't believe she was doing this either.


	18. Auditions

There was a line at least a mile long by the time auditions were ready to start—of course, getting the word out was easy. All Elsa had to do was walk out onto her balcony and throw some snow into the air to get the local towns peoples' attention. Word of mouth did most of the work for her, really.

"There are so many people here!" Anna said, clapping her hands excitedly as she stared out the window of the throne room into the courtyard. "We should move them all into the ballroom…they can fit in there, right?"

"I'm sure," Elsa answered. "We should wait for Michelle and Eleanor though…where are they?"

"Not sure—oh, hi Michelle!" Anna said, waving as the brunette walked up to them.

"Hello Anna," Michelle said. "Guys, we have a bit of a problem."

"How so?" Elsa asked.

"Do you remember when you said you couldn't believe that Eleanor could eat so much?"

"Yes…?"

Michelle sighed. "Well, apparently her body finally realized that she shouldn't be able to. She's been sick all morning."

Elsa wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"Will she be alright?" Anna asked.

"If I had to guess, she'll be okay," Michelle answered. "But, considering the fact that she's in such bad shape…I think it would be best if I stayed with her today. To make sure she's alright." She seemed to be turning slightly green.

"Does that mean we need to send everyone home?" Anna asked, "There's a huge line."

"I don't want to," Michelle answered, "But Eleanor is in no state to be watching anyone, and since I feel I should be watching her—"

"Don't worry about it then," Elsa interrupted. "We can cast the show ourselves."

"But I'm the director!" Michelle protested.

"Weren't you saying a few days ago," Anna replied, "That you were planning on having someone else direct? So you weren't going to have any control over the cast anyway…"

"Well…well…" Michelle sighed. "Fine, you have a point. Bring everyone into the ballroom, and have them sing something. I don't even care what at this point…we need about, I'd say…obviously we need the two of you, and two guys for Hans and Kristoff. The other characters we can fill in; make sure we have a few older ones to play your parents and the Duke of Weselton. And two younger ones to play the two of you as children. We'll also need…about twenty good singers for the ensemble. Got that?"

Anna was nodding vigorously. "Uh…sort of?"

"I got everything," Elsa assured her. "Since this show is about us, I'm sure casting it will be easy. Tell Eleanor we hope she feels better."

Michelle marshaled up all of her courage; she was not good at handling sick people. Especially when it was _this_ sort of sickness. "Thank you. I'll tell her that…and here." She shoved a large stack of papers into their hands. "This is copies of every song in the show. In case anyone forgot to prepare their own song. Also instructions—I wrote them just in case something like this happened. Yes I did this all last night, yes I'm obsessive, now I have to go and make sure Eleanor is taken care of."

With that she left the room as quickly as she could.

* * *

Michelle's instructions were very thorough.

"Why does she have _character descriptions_?" Anna whispered to Elsa, thumbing through the pages as they took their seats in the ballroom. They had moved all of the people in there and set up seats at the front, waiting for them to form a line. "What, does she think that we won't know what our personalities are?"

"You know Michelle. She's very thorough about this sort of thing." Elsa raised her voice to address the crowd. "If you're all in a line, we can begin! Step in front here; tell us your name and what you'll be singing. Most of all, just relax!"

The auditions were finally underway. Mostly they weren't very memorable. The majority of people weren't very good singers, and those that were Elsa couldn't see playing either of them. The twenty names for the ensemble filled up quickly, but there was nothing in the columns Michelle had drawn for any lead parts.

Fortunately, as the day wore on, they got a few lucky breaks.

The first was when one peasant girl timidly walked to the front of the line. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back and she looked terrified.

"And what is your name?" Elsa asked, getting ready to write it down. The question seemed to catch the girl off guard. She looked to the left and right, as though she thought Elsa was talking to someone else.

"Brigitta," She finally said, twirling a strand of blond hair around her finger nervously. "Brigitta Burke."

"What are you going sing?" Anna asked.

Brigitta blushed scarlet, adjusting her glasses. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I didn't really think …mother said I had a very pretty voice, and she sort of pushed me into line. I wasn't planning on doing this today. I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry," Elsa answered. "You seem nervous. Don't be."

Anna seemed to get an idea. She whispered something into Elsa's ear, and she nodded.

"Brigitta, would you feel better if you didn't have to sing in front of everyone?" Elsa whispered, motioning for her to come closer. Brigitta paused for a moment before nodding vigorously. "Then that should be no problem. Stand back everyone!" Elsa flicked her wrist, a wall of ice separating the three of them from the general crowd.

"Why don't you try my song?" Anna asked. "Here!" she grabbed it, holding the papers out for her. "It goes kind of like this…" she hummed the tune for her, "You think you got that?"

"I think so…"

"So just pick a part, wherever you want, and start singing," Anna said encouragingly.

Brigitta gave a shaky breath, steeled whatever shred of courage she had, and began singing.

"_For the first time in forever,_

_ They'll be music, they'll be light,_

_ For the first time in forever,_

_ I'll be dancing through the night…" _Brigitta continued singing to the end of the verse.

"Was that good?" She asked curiously.

"Actually, really good," Anna said genuinely.

"You have an excellent voice," Elsa agreed, "Very melodic. Could you stay?"

"Why?"

"Well, we're having all of the people who are definitely in the show wait in the Great Hall. The director is…busy right now, but when she comes back I'm sure she'll want to meet all of you."

Brigitta looked shocked, a huge grin spreading across her face. "Thank you," she kept repeating as she walked toward the door leading to the great hall, "Thank you so much!"

Elsa waved goodbye, smiling. "She was very good. I think she would be good for you Anna."

"What? She's way too shy. She'd be much better for you."

"Can you imagine her singing Let It Go though?" Elsa asked.

"…Well, maybe not. But I can't imagine you doing it either." Anna shrugged, writing Brigitta's name down on the list. "We'll put her down under both our names and figure it out later once we find someone to star with her."

It was a few hours later that they found that person, a girl named Heidi. It was completely settled then on who would play who; Brigitta wasn't nearly as outgoing as Anna, but when they heard Heidi's loud, booming voice doing Let It Go, it was impossible to have her play anyone else but Elsa. Of course, everything she did was a bit loud.

"Partially deaf," she said, pointing to her ear. "Scarlett fever when I was young. If I used my indoor voice I'd barely hear what I was saying. I hope that's not a problem?"

"She'd have to be loud onstage, right?" Anna said to Elsa. Elsa nodded.

"You can wait outside Heidi," Elsa said.

"What?"

"WAIT OUTSIDE." Anna shouted, and Heidi nodded vigorously before leaving.

Good male singers were even harder to come by. Especially when they were casting Anna's boyfriend; she refused to take anything less than perfect, in talent and in looks.

"This one is blonde," Elsa whispered to Anna as he walked up to the front. "Like Kristoff. That's good right?"

Anna squinted. "I guess so…he actually looks kind of familiar…"

"Probably because he looks like Kristoff," Elsa said cheerily, turning toward him. "And what is your name?"

"My name is Linus," the man answered, and suddenly Anna realized exactly who he was.

"Oaken's Trading Post!" Anna blurted out. "I mean, I saw you there. You have the same accent as Oaken. Except you were only wearing a towel—"

"What do you mean, he was only wearing a _towel_?"

"No Elsa, it wasn't like I saw him up close or anything, Oaken showed me the sauna, and his family was inside! You're his son, aren't you?" Anna asked, blushing.

"Oh yes," Linus said, nodding, "Papa is the owner of the Trading Post. I remember you too…should my song be performed now?"

"Sure…"

Linus began to sing. It was the strangest thing; as soon as he started singing, his accent completely disappeared. All that was left was a deep, rich baritone voice.

"I don't know Elsa," Anna whispered.

"What? Anna, his voice is fantastic."

"Yeah, but he talks with such a thick accent. He doesn't sound like Kristoff at all."

"Fine. Considering this is the…next to last man in line, you tell me who you want to cast instead."

Anna opened her mouth, then closed it. "Congratulations Linus, you'll be playing Kristoff."

"Thank you!" Linus said. He lumbered to the door leading to the Great Hall, turning when he got there to give them both a wave.

"He seems friendly," Elsa said.

"Yeah," Anna answered, "Like his father. Just don't accuse him of pricing his carrots too high."

"What?"

"…Nothing."

* * *

"How many left?"

"From the looks of it…" Elsa's eyes scanned the room. "Only one." She waved at the last man, standing in a corner of the room. His eyes widening, grinning, and he walked over briskly.

"Hello!" He said, bowing slightly, looking quite confident. "It's a pleasure to be here."

"Name?"  
"Erik Fjordson," he answered. He put his hands into his pockets, looking more relaxed than any of the other people who had auditioned.

"The name seems familiar," Elsa answered.

"I was Romeo in a touring production of Romeo and Juliet for two years."

"We saw that!" Anna answered. "You guys performed at the castle, didn't you?"

"Yes, we did. It was our second stop. In fact…it was for your birthday, wasn't it?" Erik asked, looking at Elsa.

"Yes. What will you be singing?"

"I thought I'd give Let It Go a try." He answered, rubbing his closely trimmed beard as he prepared to get going. He smiled sheepishly. "I rub the beard for good luck," he joked, shaking out his body and finally singing.

It was possibly the greatest singing either of them had ever heard. Elsa forgot to cut him off, letting him do the entire song.

"The cold never bothered me anyway…" Erik finished blinking a few times. "Wow. Either you are really unsure about my singing or really enjoyed it. Which was it?"

"Enjoyed it," Elsa answered.

"It was awesome!" Anna agreed, "I think you'd make a good Hans—I should know, shouldn't I? Don't you think so Elsa?"

Elsa looked at Michelle's notes. She described Hans as needing to be played by 'an actor so charismatic and nice-looking the audience will forget that he tries to kill Elsa at the end of the show'. Looking at Erik, with his wide-eyed look and dusting of freckles across his nose, it was clear he would fit that to a T.

"Absolutely," Elsa answered. "Erik, just wait in the Great Hall."

Erik frowned slightly. "Are Michelle and Eleanor Belmonte going to see me? I heard they were the directors."

"Michelle and Eleanor had…an emergency," Anna said, not wanting to give too much detail. "Just wait in the Great Hall and they'll see you later."

His good mood returned. "Splendid!" Erik answered. "Since I was the last one, I suppose you'll join me there?"

It was a terrible day for Michelle and Eleanor. After an entire day of illness, Eleanor was finally able to leave the room without fear of suddenly retching, albeit with some help from Michelle.

"Alright, last step," Michelle said soothingly, leading her down by the elbow. Eleanor clutched her stomach, hissing in pain. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"I want to see the cast," Eleanor said, "I'll be fine."

"Well, we're in the Great Hall—Elsa, Anna!" Michelle called out, waving. "Those people, are they the cast?"

"Yeah!" Anna said, gesturing toward them dramatically. "Introducing, the cast of 'The Snow Queen'!"

Elsa pointed them out to Michelle. "The blonde woman is Brigitta, the dark haired girl is Heidi, the blonde man's name is Linus...and that's Erik," Elsa said, pointing to the last one. While the rest only waved politely, Erik took a step forward.

The color drained from Michelle's face.

"Michelle," Erik said simply, "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"You know him?" Elsa asked. The two sisters look at each other uncomfortably. Eleanor looked to be in a state of discomfort that had nothing to do with her stomach.

"And Eleanor," Erik continued stepping closer, palms out. "I missed you. It's so great to see both of you again—"

He didn't finish; Michelle silenced him with a slap across the face.


	19. Erik

Everyone in the room was in a complete state of shock. No one moved; some people barely dared to breathe.

"Oh dear," Brigitta said to herself. She looked like she was about to faint.

"What just happened?" Heidi said. "I mean, I couldn't really hear it, but the slap must have been pretty hard for everyone to gasp like this…sorry," she finally said, smiling sheepishly before closing her mouth.

Erik stared at Michelle, a hand resting on the spot where he had been slapped. "I probably deserve that," he answered.

Michelle didn't respond; she raised a hand to slap him again; Linus was about to stop her, only to be stopped himself by her sister putting her arms out in front of Erik protectively.

"Michelle! You are not slapping anyone!" She said. She turned her head toward the rest of the cast. "And all of you, you better leave. Come back…uh, just show up tomorrow or something. You're all in."

They left reluctantly, sneaking glances at the four of them as they walked out the large doors leading to the outside.

"Eleanor, get out of the way," Michelle said through gritted teeth.

"No. Michelle, you can't just hit people. Yell at him all you want but don't…don't hit him, okay? Please."

Michelle's hands were curled into fists; she relaxed them begrudgingly. "Fine. I will yell at him."

Eleanor stepped slightly to the side.

"Eleanor, what's going on?" Anna asked.

"Uh…we know that guy." Eleanor answered.

"Yes, but _how_?" Elsa asked.

"We know him," Eleanor said again, "That's all I'm going to say for now."

"How dare you come back," Michelle growled, "What did you think I was going to do?"

"Well, I didn't think you would be happy, not at all," Erik answered, "Though the slap was a bit unexpected. As I said though, I deserved it."

"You think all it's going to take is an apology and I'll suddenly forget everything that happened?"  
"No, of course not." Erik answered weakly.

"How could you," Michelle said, her hands balling into fists again. "How dare you do that to…to my sister! Eleanor was a wreck. A _complete wreck_."

Erik nodded. "I know. But that's why I came back-"

"Then you came back for nothing," Michelle answered. She turned abruptly to walk away. "He's not in this show. I refuse to direct with him as whoever you casted him to be. Find someone else."

"Michelle—" Elsa started, and Michelle turned her head.

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT," she shouted, before reaching the top of the stairs and disappearing around a corner.

Erik sighed, shoulders sagging with disappointment. "Your sister isn't normally that emotional. I don't remember her that way."

"Wow, I wonder why she's so angry?" Eleanor said dryly; she caught herself, sighing. "Look Erik, just…I mean, thank you. For coming to visit."

He looked at her. "Thank you for shielding me."

"Yeah." She answered, rubbing her arm awkwardly.

"I don't suppose…_you_ could forgive, could you?" He asked hopefully, "I missed you."

"Look Erik, I just…" Eleanor gestured vaguely in the air. "I mean, I loved you—"

Elsa and Anna looked at the pair, then at each other in shock.

"—But just because I didn't let my sister beat you up doesn't mean I'm not mad." They looked at each other for a moment. Erik seemed to turn away from her, to leave no doubt.

"Wait," Eleanor put a hand on his arm to pull him back. "Look, I'm mad at you, and I don't forgive you yet…but I want to try. And I know you're an awesome actor. I'll talk to Michelle tonight. Stay in a guest room or something, I can show you where there's one."

Erik smiled, putting his own hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "Thank you Eleanor. That's very kind of you, you have no idea."

"Don't mention it," Eleanor said, "But seriously, _don't_, we need to be really quiet walking past my sister's room."

He walked with her. Like Michelle, Eleanor turned her head as she walked to look back at Elsa and Anna. "Guys, I know you probably got like a bazillion questions right now—but I'm kind of emotionally exhausted. Can I fill you both in later?"

"Sure," Elsa and Anna both answered dumbly. Eleanor smiled in gratitude before disappearing with Erik up the stairs and around the corner.

"…What just happened?" Anna asked. "I'm kind of confused."

"I'll tell you what happened," Elsa answered, "Eleanor just ran into her old boyfriend."

"Them," Anna said in disbelief. It wasn't that she thought Erik was out of her league—he seemed very good natured, and he was definitely handsome, but Eleanor was one of the nicest people Anna had ever met. There was nothing wrong with the way she looked either, unless you counted her being slightly chubby from weeks of food binges; and if she had been as thin when she met Erik as she was when Anna met her, that wouldn't have been an issue.

But Eleanor was just so…Eleanor. She was all about guitar playing and eating chocolate cake and building ridiculously elaborate forts out of cushions. Her having a _boyfriend_, especially when she was _younger_, seemed kind of implausible.

"You really think that's it?" Anna asked.

"What else could it be?" Elsa asked. "She shielded him from Michelle, and then she said she used to love him. Michelle shouted 'how could you do that to my sister'. He broke her heart and that's why Michelle is angry. And why else would Eleanor be helping him? She must still have some feelings for the man."

"Wow…Eleanor has really good taste."

"Anna, is that _really_ what you're taking from this?"

"I'm just saying! What should I be taking from this anyway?"

"You should be taking away from this, 'what did Erik do that was so bad Michelle tried to beat him on sight'. For her to get that angry it couldn't have been just a normal breakup…"

They drifted into silence. Elsa was right. Even if Erik did seem like a really nice guy.

After all, so did Hans.

"Michelle," Eleanor opened the door to her room a crack. "Are you alright?"

"Go away," Michelle said, her voice muffled by a pillow. "I'm too busy screaming into my bed."

"This isn't like you," Eleanor said gently, opening the door wider.

"Maybe not," Michelle said begrudgingly.

"Can I come in?"

Michelle looked at her and nodded. "Sure, but I said I didn't want to talk about it."

"Then listen." Eleanor sat down on the bed next to her sister; an arm reached out, draping itself across Michelle's shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get you down like that."

Michelle nodded.

"I mean, he was a jerk," Eleanor continued, "Not even worth your acknowledgement."

Michelle seemed to relax a little. "Not even worth our acknowledgement. You're right."

Eleanor took a breath. Here goes nothing? "So, I mean, obviously you haven't gotten over this. And the best way to do it, I mean, to move on, is to not treat him like he's affected our lives in the least. We need to act like we couldn't care less that…" Eleanor faltered. Michelle glared at her.

"That he's playing Hans in The Snow Queen?" Michelle asked accusatorily, "Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Well…yeah—oh come on 'Chelle!" Eleanor said indignantly, when Michelle stood up abruptly and stood on the other side of the room.

"I can't believe you!" She said, "After what he did…it was backstabbing, traitorous…made us think he was _such_ a nice guy—"

"So, what you're saying is," Eleanor answered weakly, "Is that he was _born_ to play Hans."

Michelle glared daggers at Eleanor. "Ha ha."

"I know what he did," Eleanor answered, "I decided I want to try and forget about it. Start fresh."

"Eleanor…you can't…I mean…it's not that simple! When are you going to learn, some people _deserve_ to not be forgiven—"

"Yeah; people who don't try to make up for what they did." Eleanor answered. "He said he was sorry. He apologized. Sure, actions speak louder than words, but how can he do anything if we don't let him?"

"But for you to just say okay, like that…how can you do that?"

"You don't get it, do you? I can't be angry. I just can't," Eleanor said. She seemed to almost be pleading now. "I just…I just want to play guitar and have fun. When I was angry at you, for like a day—it was exhausting. It was the worst I've ever felt. I don't want to be angry. If I didn't learn to find something good in everything—in everyone—I would have gone insane living the way we did. I'd just rather forgive him than deal with being angry, okay?"

"It can't be that easy," Michelle said quietly.

"Oh, I'm not saying it is," Eleanor answered, "But it's worth trying. Believe me, even if you don't entirely mean it, the feeling of superiority you get from being the bigger person can still be pretty satisfying."

Michelle looked at Eleanor, both fondly and sadly. She always took for granted Eleanor's never-ending supply of optimism. She thought it was just the way Eleanor was. How many times had her sister been suffering, but lied to herself until she made herself believe she was happy?

"You always tell me about artistic integrity," Eleanor continued, "Erik is an amazing actor. He's famous in the theatre circle. You know he's the best choice for Hans. You got to admit that."

Michelle huffed. The truth was Eleanor was right; Erik was great.

"So, for you to sacrifice the quality of the show for the sake of a grudge…that's not right, is it?" Eleanor said innocently. "Kind of like the 'murder your darlings' advice you gave me, right? Sometimes you need to do the right thing for your show, even if it's something you personally don't want to do."

Michelle didn't have a leg to stand on now. She mentally chastised herself; tripped by her own philosophies.

"I will give him one chance," Michelle answered, her voice steely. "One. But if he steps one toe out of line…"

Eleanor had never been more proud of her sister.


	20. The First Rehearsal

Considering the fact that Michelle's first action as director was to slap one of the cast members, she was not particularly surprised when they all froze and practically stood in a straight line at attention when she walked into the ballroom the next afternoon.

"I think we got off on…well…your first impression of me couldn't have been very good, could it?" Michelle watched as they all looked at each other, unsure of what to do. "That question was rhetorical guys. You don't need to answer it." They all seemed to relax.

"I'm Eleanor!" She put an arm around Michelle pulling her close. "My sister Michelle, as you all know, is directing. I'm music director. It's my job to make sure you all sound really good."

"And since I didn't get a chance to yesterday because of, well, events," Michelle said, trying to skim over the fight as much as possible, "I'd like to get a closer look at our leads. Can the two woman and the two male leads take a step forward?"

They all did. Michelle scanned her eyes over them for a few moments, walking back and forth to get closer looks at them.

"You all seem like you fit the part physically, for the most part," Michelle said. She looked at Brigitta. "You'll need to take off your glasses, however. Anna doesn't wear them."

"My glasses?" Brigitta's fingers curled around the stem of them. "But I can barely see anything without them."

"Just try it," Michelle insisted.

"Uh…Michelle," Eleanor asked gently, "Don't you think she should at least have her blocking down before we make her walk around the stage practically blind?"

"Nonsense," Michelle answered, trying to sound more confident in her decision than she felt, "The sooner she can learn to get around without them, the better. Now give them here." Michelle held out her hand, and Brigitta finally placed her glasses there.

Heidi started to giggle.

"What is it?" Eleanor asked.

"No, it's just…I lost some of my hearing when I was little. So it's like, I can't hear well, and now she can't see well. Pretty ironic, don't you think, and even kind of cool, since we're playing sisters and we kind of complement each other because of that…" She realized she was rambling and stopped. "Sorry. I can't really hear myself talk sometimes so it takes me a moment to realize when I'm going on and on…sorry." She put her hand over her mouth.

Michelle looked at her strangely for a moment. "Well…you actually are kind of refreshing. Usually actors have a problem projecting. It should come naturally to you."

Heidi grinned. "Thank you!" she said.

"My only problem," Eleanor interrupted, "Is how easy it will be for you to sing if you can't really hear the music. But I guess if you stand close to the piano you should be able to…and we'll have an orchestra for the show which should be plenty loud enough for you to hear."

"And then you," Michelle said, relaxing somewhat, "You're Linus, correct?"

"Yes, I am."

"You'll need to lose your accent if you want to play Kristoff." Michelle said immediately.

Linus looked insulted. "I like my accent."

"The audience won't—" Michelle started, Eleanor putting a hand over her mouth. "Michelle! That's fine Linus," she hissed in her sister's ear, "Michelle, that's mean. You're making fun of him."

"I'm not making fun of him, I'm just saying I don't like his accent—"

The gigantic blond made a deep rumbling in his throat. Erik stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm. "Linus, why don't we stay calm, huh? Trust me, you don't want to mess with her. I should know." He patted his cheek. Linus looked at him and laughed.

"The men all think it's quite funny, getting hit by a woman like that," Erik said, looking at Michelle. He put his hands behind his back.

Michelle looked him over for a moment. "You gained weight since I last saw you," she said coolly. Of course, she was half-lying. He had gained weight; but it was from muscle, not from fat like she was implying.

"So have you," Erik answered, "In a good way, I mean! You look healthy." He smiled, looking increasingly uncomfortable under Michelle's glare.

"Maybe we should get started," Eleanor interjected. "Elsa and Anna are working with the kids in the other room…they, uh, are kind of terrified of you Michelle so I thought it'd be better if they worked with them for now…"

"Alright," Michelle said, rubbing her temples. They hadn't even started and she already had a headache. "Why don't we start trying to block The First Time in Forever, shall we? Brigitta, Heidi, you both stay where you are. The rest can go off to the side for a moment and watch while I block this scene out."

Michelle could not remember something going so badly as the rehearsal.

The first problem was Brigitta's eyesight. They tried to use tables as markers for what would be the edges of the stage, but the blond girl never noticed them until she crashed into them. The poor girl would wake up the next day to a few nasty bruises on her thighs. Only when she crashed into Heidi, sending the two sprawling on the ground among roaring laughter from the watching ensemble, did Michelle finally admit that maybe Eleanor's suggestion had been right.

"Here's your glasses," Michelle said, handing them to her. "That scene…uh, it looks very good," she lied, getting the feeling that Brigitta was the sensitive sort. "But perhaps we're getting ahead of ourselves. Why don't we just try doing a read through? Heidi, why don't you and Brigitta read the scene where you're both at the party. Starting with the line, 'you look beautiful'." Hopefully, if they weren't moving, things might go more smoothly.

She was wrong. Brigitta had a very quiet, soft speaking voice, so much so that Heidi could not hear what she was saying.

"What do you expect me to do?" Heidi snapped, when Michelle told her for a fifth time that she missed her cue, "She's so quiet, I can't tell what she's saying, so even if I know it's my turn to speak I don't know what line we're on!" She turned on Brigitta. "Why can't you speak up a little?"

"I'm trying my best," Brigitta said softly. She raised her voice, only slightly. "Please don't shout at me."

"I'm not shouting—" Heidi started, then realized that, you know what, maybe she was shouting and didn't realize it. "Sorry. Force of habit. But I can't do my lines if you don't say them loud enough for me to hear, you know?"

Brigitta was about to speak, then decided only to nod. Heidi smiled. "Thanks."

"Michelle, what do you want to do now?" Eleanor asked.

"You know what?" Michelle answered, "I think that's enough for today guys. You can all go home."

"Are you sure?" Erik asked, "We've only been here a few hours. When I was in Romeo and Juliet we rehearsed six hours a day at least—"

"Yes, we're all aware you played Romeo," Michelle answered. "But this isn't that show, is it?"

"I actually was not aware," Linus offered, "If that makes you feel better, Erik,"

Erik smiled at Linus. "Thank you," He said, "But perhaps it is best that we all just leave."

"Goodbye everyone!" Eleanor called out, waving as they all walked out the door. "Have a nice day! See you all tomorrow!" Under her breath she whispered, "If you guys actually want to come back…"

Erik was the last to leave. "I'll see you both tomorrow!" he said, smiling. Eleanor raised her hand to wave, only to stop when she saw the look on her sister's face.

"See ya' Erik," Eleanor mumbled, and the actor finally left.

"Well, that was a disaster," Eleanor said.

"Of course it was," Michelle answered. "I mean, really? Of all the people that must have auditioned, one can't see without huge glasses, one is partially deaf, one has an accent so thick you can barely understand him, and one is…well, you know."

"Yeah, I do." Eleanor agreed. "But they all have good voices, don't they?"

"Maybe their singing will be so incredible they'll forget the rest is terrible," Michelle said bitterly. "Let's go check on Anna and Elsa. The dining room, right?"

Finding children to play Anna and Elsa was simple enough—they simply found two servants who had daughters.

"It went wonderfully!" Anna gushed, "They're both so cute, they were so happy when Elsa made it snow so they could practice the scene where they're playing—and the one playing me, she even gave me a hug before she left, isn't that sweet?"

"I'm glad it went well for you," Michelle said dryly. "Ours was a bit rough."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Elsa said, "But it's only the first rehearsal, right?" She seemed to get ready to say something else, and thought better of it.

"I need to go to bed," Michelle announced.

"But Michelle, it's only four in the afternoon! "

"Yes. And I've had a long day."

"Are you sure—" Elsa started, but was stopped by Anna leaning in and whispering furiously into her ear.

"Well, if you feel tired, go to bed." Elsa agreed. Eleanor looked at her suspiciously. Michelle did as well, but her fatigue and disappointment in the day's events kept her from probing any further.

"Then I'll go then," Michelle said, and walked out of the room as quickly as she could.

"I'll go with you!" Eleanor called out, but was stopped by Anna's hand on her shoulder, pulling her back.

"Oh no you don't," Anna said. "You promised you'd tell us what happened yesterday."

Eleanor looked to Elsa. "Do I seriously have to?"

"If he did something horrible, we want to know about it," Elsa answered. "Whatever he did to you Eleanor, it must have been bad for Michelle to have gotten so angry."

"Yeah!" Anna agreed, "We would have never cast him if we had known he, like, broke your heart and stuff—"

"What do you mean, broke my heart?"

Anna froze for a moment. "…You mean you guys weren't dating?"

_"Dating?" _

"Elsa was the one who thought of that!" Anna said defensively, pointing at her sister.

"Anna!" Elsa looked at Eleanor, biting her lower lip. "It's just; you both seemed so friendly…"

"So? We were friends." Eleanor started laughing. "Oh my God, I can't believe you thought I was in love with him."

"Why shouldn't we have?" Anna said indignantly, crossing her arms. "You said you loved him! We heard you."

Eleanor looked at her friend, quirking a brow. "Anna, I love everybody. I mean, last night I said I loved chocolate cake. Doesn't mean I want to get romantically involved with chocolate cake," She began laughing again. "I'm sorry! It's just, you're so off it's _ridiculous_."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Elsa asked.

"Well, when I said I loved Erik," Eleanor explained, "It's because he was like my brother."

Anna and Elsa didn't say anything.

"In fact," Eleanor said, trying to lead them to the right answer, "For all I know, he could have ended up being my _step brother_."

This time, it was Anna who got the answer first.

"You don't mean…_Michelle_?"

"That would also explain why she was so angry…" Elsa said, blushing in embarrassment. "It's just, not to offend your sister Eleanor, but the idea of her being involved with anyone…"

"Well, they weren't exactly," Eleanor explained. She grinned. "You know what? Your little 'theory' thing put me back in a good mood. I don't mind tell you guys anymore." She sauntered over to a chair at the head of the dining room table.

"Pull up a chair or something," Eleanor said.


	21. Eleanor's Story

**Author's Note: Just to keep anyone from getting confused, most of this chapter is in the first person POV because it's Eleanor telling Anna and Elsa what happened. **

So, just to set the scene for you; our parents died when I was five. We'd been living in an orphanage for three years before we met Erik.

Me and Michelle were deemed 'weird kids', since Michelle would rather write than talk to people, and I was related to her. That made us prime targets for bullies.

So, one day I'm sitting outside with Michelle, trying to teach myself how to play my mom's guitar, when a huge sixteen year old comes up to me.

"Hey freaks," he said to us.

Michelle taught me to just ignore bullies. But this kid wasn't going to just leave. "I said, hey _freaks_," He took a step closer to us.

Michelle looked up from the notebook she had been writing in. "Yes you did say that," she said dryly, then looked back down.

He took getting her to react to him as a challenge. And, naturally, he assumed her sister would be the weak link.

"What have you got there?" He asked me.

"My guitar," I mumbled. His ugly grin got wider.

"Let me see it," He stated. He grabbed it and jerked it out of my hands.

I immediately broke down in hysterics. I don't want to make you feel guilty again Anna, but my mom's guitar was my most prized possession. I slept with it at night like a teddy bear. The dude grabbed a sharp rock from the ground and cut all of the strings.

"Don't!" I cried. Michelle got up, casually, staring at this seventeen year old guy who was a good foot taller than her.

"Give. It. Back."

"I don't think I will. What are you going to do? Write on me?"

Michelle opened her mouth as though to answer; but she was really pulling a fake-out. She made a wild grab, trying to get the guitar out of his hands. He just laughed, pulling the guitar away with one hand and pushing her to the ground with the other.

"You know what? I think I will give your guitar back," He said. He raised it above his head; I still don't know if he was intending to smash it on the ground or my sister's face. But before he could do anything, he started screaming.

"GET OFF OF ME!" He shouted, dropping the guitar on the ground.

Michelle scrambled back up. "It's fine!" She said, sighing with relief, hugging me when she saw that I had started crying. "Sis, look. It's fine. The guitar strings can be replaced, I'll find some way to get new ones, okay?"

"O-okay," I calmed myself down, looking at the guy, who was still running back and forth like a crazed bull. "What did you do to him?"

Michelle looked at him. "I didn't do any—whoa." I realized what she meant; there were two skinny arms wrapped around his neck. Some kid, the same age as Michelle, had jumped him from behind.

As you can probably guess, this was the first time we met Erik.

"Ha!" Erik fell nimbly to the ground, bouncing around to avoid huge fists making clumsy swings at him.

"Whoever you are, you little jerk, I am going to kill you!"

"Might want to rethink that," Erik said coolly. "Because all of the screaming and that girl crying caught the attention of a few adults who are coming this way."

The teenager bolted out of there like he was on fire, and Erik turned to face us with a smile. "You both okay?" He picked up my guitar, gently, cradling it like a baby.

"Fine," Michelle said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I haven't seen you before."

"I know. I just got here."

"Do you make it a habit to risk your life for total strangers?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, my dad taught me not to let people get bullied," Erik answered, "'Course that's why he died—tried to stop a bar fight and the guy had a knife—which is why I'm here," He blushed in embarrassment at sharing so much. "Anyway, I'm Erik."

"Eleanor," I answered. Michelle seemed to relax a little.

"I'm Michelle. You're going to be in a lot of trouble when they get over here and find out what they did, you know. That's not the best way to start your first day."

"Oh, no one's coming," Erik answered, smiling crookedly. "I lied so he'd leave. Clever, huh?"

He cocked his head to one side, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You're odd," Michelle finally announced. "But you helped us, and once people know what you did, they're not going to like you…"

"…So if we won't be your friends, no one will be," I finished.

"Oh no," he put a hand over his heart, feigning shock. "Then I guess I'm stuck with the two of you, aren't I?" He grinned. "I haven't even been inside yet. Show me around?"

We walked back inside in silence, Michelle looking at him out of the corners of her eyes. She still didn't completely trust him yet.

"Whatcha' got in your bag?" I asked, pointing to the small sack he carried. Everyone was allowed to take one item with them when they came here—I took the guitar and Michelle took her notebook.

Erik hugged it protectively to his chest. "Complete works of Shakespeare. Dad would read it to me every night before bed…he loved to go see them."

Michelle seemed to light up, staring at him in shock. "You love Shakespeare?"

"Yeah."

"I've never met another ten year old who liked Shakespeare. I thought I was the only one."

"I want to be an actor when I grow up," Erik answered, "And be in Shakespeare shows. Dad would've liked that."

Michelle looked pleasantly surprised, like she had just discovered a pearl in an oyster. "When I grow up,_ I_ want to write plays."

"Really?" Erik stepped closer, so that he was between the two of us. "Have you ever read Shakespeare?"

"Absolutely, I wouldn't call myself a writer if I didn't…"

From that day on we became a three person family; Michelle was part big sister, part mom. Erik was part big brother, part dad.

My sister and Erik were inseparable. They'd spend all night writing, and then during the day they'd sit together talking about whatever weird, 'intellectual' thing they thought of. He'd put his arm around her when they were reading. I remember pretty vividly, sometimes he would even give her a kiss goodnight on the cheek.

But, since you want to know about what went wrong…this is kind of the hard part, and I know I've kind of been putting it off…but I guess I have to get to it at some point. Here it goes.

Our town had a play festival every year. Once you were old enough, you could enter your play in for the festival. You wouldn't get paid, but a lot of professional theatre companies came to see them. If a director saw it and liked it, you could be offered a deal. Michelle and Erik were seventeen, were going to be eighteen soon, so they thought this was our last chance at making some money before they aged out of the orphanage. If they weren't offered a deal for the show, that meant they'd be on their own with no money or prospects.

"I am nervous," Michelle said, pacing back in forth in our room the night before her play was due to be performed. "What if they don't like it? Or someone important could just not see it. We're leaving so much to chance—"

"You'll be fine, Michelle," Erik said gently. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, speaking softly in her ear, grey eyes staring at her intensely. "This play is great. You've worked all year on it. If anything you should be worried that I'm going to mess up my lines." Erik was the lead in the show, naturally. Michelle had written him into almost every scene.

Michelle turned around so she was facing him. "Thank you…I'm sure you'll be great Erik. You shouldn't sell yourself short. I just…I can't take Eleanor with me if I don't have any money to take care of her…" She looked at me with concern.

"I've never been away from you guys for more than a few hours," I offered. Which was probably the wrong thing to say, because Michelle only looked more nervous? "But you'll be fine!" I added hastily.

"We'll be fine," Erik agreed. "Just think Michelle…tomorrow we'll sell your show. Then the three of us can leave this crummy place."

"Right…"

He hugged her. "What you need is some sleep. You deserve to go to bed before midnight for once." He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. "Night 'Chelly." He kneeled down by me; I was sitting on the floor. He gave me a hug. "Night Elly," he said, chuckling a little when he realized he had just made our names rhyme.

"Goodnight Erik," Michelle and I had said in unison. As soon as Erik left, Michelle sighed happily.

"Eleanor?"

"Yeah sis?"

Michelle bit her lower lip, looking concerned again. "I think I'm in love with him."

I was surprised, not really by the fact that she _was_—it was pretty obvious—but by how she just blurted it out to me so suddenly. "Well, tell him then!" I said. "Michelle, Erik _adores_ you. And he's already like a big brother to me, might as well make it official, right?"

Michelle blushed. "I can't just _tell_ him, Eleanor,"

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because we have too much going on already," Michelle explained. "We've had this play to write, and tomorrow we're going to find out whether or not we're leaving the orphanage dirt poor. And I've had to worry about taking care of you—not that it's your fault—and having a boyfriend is just going to be a…_distraction_."

This was typical of Michelle. She could have had her leg torn off, and she wouldn't acknowledge it because it would be a 'distraction'. "Then let's make a deal," I suggested.

"What?"

"If someone buys your play, you need to tell Erik. You won't have to worry about money then anymore, right?"

Michelle was taken aback for a moment. "Well…alright. Sure. I can do that."

I grinned. "Are you sure that's the only reason you won't tell him? Not a little bit afraid of rejection?" I answered teasingly.

"Please," Michelle huffed, "I'm awesome." But, looking uncomfortable, she got into bed, ready to fall asleep.

"Michelle?" I asked.

"What?"

"Why did you tell me if you might not tell him at all?"

She had turned off the light, but I imagine that she had blushed. "I don't know. I've just thought about this for awhile and I felt like if I didn't tell somebody I'd go insane."

And she turned her back to me and fell asleep.

Remember when I said Erik and Michelle weren't _exactly_ together? Well, that's what I meant by that. Erik definitely loved Michelle…but she never had the opportunity to tell him.

The next day, we got the play sold. Someone saw it and offered us a huge deal; we were going to get to go on tour with it. Everything Michelle and Erik ever dreamed of had come true.

"To Michelle!" Erik said, raising a glass. We were back in Michelle's room, for the last time. He had stolen a bottle of champagne from the adult's liquor cabinet, his final act as a resident of the orphanage.

"We should be toasting you," Michelle said, "You were fantastic."

"No, no," Erik answered, downing his glass. "It was your writing Michelle. Anyone could have played that role just as well as I did,"

"Aw, just take the compliment Erik!" I said, "This show wouldn't be good without you."

Our compliments just seemed to make him more uncomfortable. He shifted in place, biting his lower lip. I remembered thinking he was just nervous—he was leaving tomorrow, after all.

"Michelle," I said pointedly, nudging her."Don't you have something you want to say to him?"

Michelle looked startled; she stared at me. "Erik, can I talk to you outside—without my sister?"

"What? But Michelle—"

"Bed Eleanor," Michelle answered, "We have a long day tomorrow, and you're too young to stay up late."

"But I'm only two years younger than—"

"Actually Michelle," Erik interrupted, taking her hand, "I was going to suggest the same thing."

Michelle blushed. "Really? Then we should go then. Eleanor?"

Erik looked at me. "Sorry, little sister. But I think it's best we talk alone…"

"Fine," I grumbled, getting into bed. They both left the room quietly, and eventually I managed to fall asleep.

The next morning Erik was gone, and I didn't see him again for almost three years.

* * *

Eleanor stopped. She was tensed up so much that she looked to be in pain.

"…What do you mean, he was gone?" Anna asked, "He just left?"

Eleanor looked up at her. "I don't know what happened, exactly," Eleanor answered, "Only what Michelle told me."

"Which was…?" Elsa asked.

"Erik had wanted to talk to her because he was quitting our show. A director talked to him…they wanted him to be Romeo in a touring production of Romeo and Juliet. Which was his dream since he was a kid…his dad reading Shakespeare to him and everything." She gripped the edge of the table, her voice taking on a bitter tone. "Erik told her he never thought our show was going to make any money. He had been hoping for a better offer to come along the entire time."

"That's terrible!" Elsa exclaimed.

"But it gets worse," Eleanor answered. "They offered us a ton of money because they thought Erik was going to be the lead. He left, so they didn't want it anymore. Michelle convinced them to buy it for, like, a quarter of what they had offered. And _no royalty_. That show is still touring, and because of Erik we haven't made a dime off of it. If we were getting a royalty, maybe we wouldn't have ended up sleeping in gutters." Her breath hitched.

"Eleanor, are you okay?" Anna asked.

"It's just…he didn't even say goodbye to me. But he does make sure that before he leaves, he makes my sister feel like crap. Before that happened Michelle was different. Nicer, more relaxed. Easier to read. Now you can never tell what she's thinking. I guess it's 'cause she got hurt."

"We had no idea Elle," Anna answered.

"I know you didn't," Eleanor said. "Listen guys, now I actually do want to take a nap. And maybe have a huge bar of chocolate when I wake up."

"I can arrange that," Elsa said, feeling like if anyone deserved it, she did.

"Thanks Elsa," Eleanor got up, pushing her chair in. "But I did decide one thing though."

"What?"

"Well, talking about how were got played out of a ton of money made me even more determined," Eleanor finished, disappearing up the staircase, "To get this show directed or _die trying_."

And with a look of grim determination, she left a very somber Elsa and Anna alone in the dining room.

"You know what, Anna? I think maybe we shouldn't have casted the show after all."


	22. Michelle Chooses to Be Nice

Michelle fell into something Eleanor called a 'bad phase'.

"She gets like this sometimes," She said to Anna and Elsa, when her sister snapped at one of the servants for forgetting to butter her toast at breakfast. "A bunch of, like, negative emotions built up over a couple of months and she gets in a bad mood for a few days. The whole thing with Erik must have been what brought this one on..."

"Is there anything we can do to make it go by faster?" Elsa asked.

"Yeah," Anna added, "I keep thinking she's going to burn a hole in the rug, with the way she keeps glaring at the floor all the time. She barely talks to anyone anymore."

"You just got to give her a lot of alone time," Eleanor explained. "She won't admit she's upset. You need to give her room to do it by herself. Just wait, it'll have built up so much that she'll have a good cry about it and then she'll be back to only moderately anti-social in no time!"

"You're an expert in this, I take it?" Elsa asked curiously.

"Of course." Eleanor answered. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "But, more importantly, we're starting another rehearsal today. _Pray for us_."

* * *

Prayers were definitely needed for the two of them. Michelle, who wasn't very nice to begin with, had become a complete monster at rehearsals. Most of the problems they were having could have been glossed over if she had a sense of humor about it, but that was out of the question.

Most of the cast might have even quit already, if not for Eleanor following behind Michelle's angry screaming with fervent apologies and promises that she would 'calm down soon'.

Brigitta's problems with not speaking loudly only seemed to get worse because of the nervousness Michelle caused. One day, Michelle's already low level of patience completely ran out with her.

"Brigitta?" Michelle asked, "Look up,"

Brigitta did, and a book was thrown, barely missing her head. The reaction was instantaneous; everyone screamed, Brigitta screaming the loudest of all of them.

"Michelle!" Eleanor shouted, "You can't throw stuff at the actors! What the heck man?"

"I didn't throw it out her," Michelle answered, "I missed her on purpose. EVERYONE QUIET DOWN!"

They all did.

"Now Brigitta, did you notice how loudly you screamed?" Michelle asked. The actress was almost hyperventilating; Erik put an arm around her protectively, patting her back. "I want you to be that loud all the time. And if you're not that loud, I'll _remind you_ of how loud you need to be. Okay?"

Everyone looked horrified. Eleanor wrung her hands, not sure of what to say. How was she supposed to spin this?

Erik looked like he was about to say something to her, but Brigitta shrugged him away. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" she shouted. "You're…you're crazy! Absolutely insane! You never threw anything at _Heidi's _head!"

Now the main focus was on _her_ outburst.

"See?" Michelle answered, "I've never heard you say _anything_ that loudly Brigitta. Very good job…" She saw everyone staring at her, some horrified, some confused. Erik just looked disappointed. "five minute break everybody."

She turned sharply on her heels and walked into the hallway, Eleanor following closely behind.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Heidi asked when the door slammed. "And by the way Brigitta, that _was_ much louder. I heard you very clearly. But Michelle is being awful, isn't she? Her sister swears she's not normally that bad, but I'm starting to think she's just making excuses—"

"She must be," Linus said. "I did this because I thought it would be a nice experience. I could be enjoying the sauna in Papa's Trading Post right now."

One ensemble member shouted out, 'I could go for a sauna right about now!' and the others nodded in agreement.

"Whoa whoa, whoa!" Erik said, holding up his hands. "Guys, you're not all thinking about quitting, are you?"

"I certainly am," Brigitta answered, and others murmured in agreement.

"Guys, listen, you…I mean…we've been working so hard!"

"We haven't gotten anything done!" Linus argued. "And the way she's been treating us…"

"Listen, I know she's been awful; and it would be easy for me especially, to hate her. But I can't. She got in way over her head and I certainly didn't help things. So, I mean...please don't blame her. Blame me. She'd probably be fine if I hadn't shown up."

Heidi stared at him for a moment. "All in favor of having Erik tell Michelle she's being a jerk?" All hands in the room shot up.

"What? But…no! That's not what I meant!" Erik sputtered. "Guys, she hates me more than anyone else in the cast! What makes you all think she'll listen to me?"

"That is true," Linus said, furrowing his brow. "But on the other hand, the rest of us don't want to get on her bad side and you already are."

"If you don't want us to quit, that's the deal," Heidi added.

"…Fine," Erik grumbled. He was not looking forward to this—but his guilt beat out his apprehension.

Besides, Michelle was rational. Erik knew that. Surely she would understand.

Right?

"I can't believe you did that," Eleanor said, leaning against the wall.

"I know!" Michelle said enthusiastically, "Did you see that? It worked! I can't believe it worked!"

"Worked? _Worked_? Michelle, you can't just throw things at people's heads—"

"Eleanor, I told you, I missed her head on purpose."

"I don't care! It's still a…a…bad thing to do!"

"But it worked, didn't it?" Michelle answered. "She's speaking more loudly. Why, if you put your ear to the door you can actually hear her talking."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"But it worked. Eleanor, nothing else we've tried worked. When the show opens, they won't care if I was a jerk. They'll care about whether or not the show is good, and I think I found my directing style."

Erik poked his head out of the large doors. "Uh, Michelle?"

"Yes?" she asked stiffly, avoiding eye contact.

"The others thought I should, uh…tell you something. Important. You're-kind-of-being-a-jerk-and-they'll-quit-if-you're-not-nicer." He said it as quickly as possible.

"Excuse me?"

Erik took a deep breath. "They think your attitude has been a tad bit extreme?" He said weakly.

"Well, what makes them think that I'd listen to _you_?" She snapped, turning to look straight at him.

Erik smiled. Looking at her with her arms crossed, pouting slightly, he almost forgot that she was really mad at him. She just looked _cute_, like the way she would pretend to get mad at him when they were kids.

"Believe me, I tried to tell them. They wouldn't listen." He ran a hand through his hair, already slicked down so it was shiny and smooth. "But listen Michelle; can I give you some advice? Nothing wrong with being a little eccentric. All the best directors are. But if you don't tone it down…well, there's going to be a mutiny. These are good people—they'll put in the work if they feel appreciated."

His confidence faded quickly; he had gone too far, gotten too comfortable. He cleared his throat. "Well, um, that's my two cents. I will see you back inside." He retreated to the safety of the ballroom.

Michelle was slightly stunned. He was being nice. After she slapped him.

"I will show him," she said.

"What do you mean sis?"

"He has the audacity to be nice? I know what he's doing! He's just trying to make it look like I have no reason to be mad at him, so everyone else will be on his side. He's painting me out to be some sort of mad woman—"

"Well, Michelle, you kind of are," Eleanor pointed out. "I mean, even without the whole thing with Erik, you just threw a book at somebody."

"I'm not letting Erik paint himself as some sort of saint because of it!"

"So what you're saying is you're going to try and be nice?" Eleanor asked.

Michelle took a deep breath, calming herself. "Yes Eleanor. I am going to try and be _nice_."

Like the first time she had walked into the room, everyone looked at Michelle fearfully, though perhaps even more so than before. She cleared her throat, arms clasped behind her back.

"Everyone," she said, "I have an announcement to make."

Silence. Michelle wasn't exactly sure where to go next with this.

"Um…well…it seems I haven't been working with you in the most efficient way this week." She looked at Eleanor for help; her sister only nodded encouragingly. "And well…I'm…sorry."

The cast looked at each other, unsure of what to think, but many seemed to be pleasantly surprised. Michelle took it as a cue to keep going.

"I'm sorry for having no idea of what I'm doing. I'm sorry for letting…personal agendas…affect how I treated the rest of you. I was horrible, unprofessional, and all around just unpleasant."

Everyone seemed happy with her now. Michelle filed this in her mind. Self-deprecation seemed to be an easy way to get on everyone's good graces.

"You know what I think would be a good idea?" Eleanor said, "We should all sing through the show. It's good practice, plus it'll be fun! We'll all be de-stressed and ready to start this completely over."

Michelle nodded. "All in favor of singing through the show?" Everyone's hands went up in the air.

* * *

The next few hours passed without a hitch. The singing went generally well—Anna even joined after dinner to watch while Elsa had a meeting.

The only mistake made was during Love is an Open Door.

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Eleanor stopped playing the piano, glancing at Heidi, who had been singing along with Brigitta and Erik. "Heidi, did you just say _sandwiches_?"

"Isn't that what the words are? That's what I thought I heard them singing the last time they sang it."

Eleanor looked at her, smiling. "No. It's _sentences_. Hans says 'we finish each other's' and Anna finishes with 'sentences'." Eleanor snorted; the rest of the group started laughing. Heidi blushed a shade of scarlet before joining in.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not the one singing it, isn't it?" Heidi answered in between laughter.

"No," Michelle answered, "But Heidi brings up a good point. Erik, Brigitta, you need to be very careful with your diction. Be a bit crisper."

She surprised herself. She had actually given constructive advice. Advice that didn't involve throwing anything at anyone. A small smile spread across her face when she realized that maybe she could do this.

"Hey Eleanor," Anna whispered, nudging her friend's side, "Can we actually keep that line?"

"Keep it?"

"Yeah. I think it would be kind of funny for me to say sandwiches instead of sentences."

"But I thought you didn't like looking all goofy and awkward."

"What can I say?" Anna said, grinning, "Awkward goofy Anna is kind of growing on me. I mean, I have to admit I'm _adorable_. Even if that's not what I'm actually like at all."

"Obviously," Eleanor said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm sure Michelle won't mind."

They looked at Michelle, who was talking to Brigitta and Erik. "You need to own this song Erik," Michelle was saying. "And Brigitta, I want you to be on the verge of swooning throughout this entire scene. Erik, in this scene? You are _God's gift to women_. Think Romeo, except he's only marrying Juliet so he can destroy the Capulet family from the inside. Or something like that, you understand what I mean…"

Erik smiled, eyes crinkling in amusement. "I can try that." He said.

"Michelle's in a better mood," Anna observed. "Did she have that 'good cry' you said was coming?"

Eleanor looked at her sister with pride. "No. But I think she's going to be okay."


	23. Dress Shopping With Norm

**Author's note: I'm back! Sorry guys, I have a serious case of writer's block. But I managed to get this done. This is actually based off the 'Halt you swine' deleted scene from Frozen. Watch it, it's hilarious.**

Considering that Elsa and Anna were the lead characters, and lived in Arendelle much longer than their guests, it was only fair that they should be the ones in charge of picking out costumes.

"Just—I don't know, pick out something pretty," Michelle said, shrugging. "Eleanor and I never really cared about how we dressed."

"Yeah, mostly our problem was just _having_ clothes," Eleanor added. "So you guys might be better for this. And remember, Linus is like, a size extra-extra-_extra_-large."

So that was how they ended up commandeering Kristoff's sled and loading it with as many nice looking dresses and men's clothing they could find from the marketplace.

"Anna, I think we've bought more clothes than there are people in the cast..."

"Well, we can always give the extra clothes to Eleanor and Michelle."

"I don't think—why did you even buy _this_?" Elsa held up a pair of men's underwear, pinched between her thumb and forefinger and held at arm's length. "I highly doubt they care about what the men are wearing _under_ their clothes Anna."

"Well—I mean, Kristoff needs some, trust me on this—hey, look at that dress!" Anna squealed in delight before running over and grabbing it from the rack. Elsa followed behind her.

"That is a nice dress," Elsa mused, reaching a hand out to touch the soft, silken fabric. "It's a very nice shade of teal. Perhaps Heidi can wear it…"

"Are you kidding me? This dress isn't for the show!" Anna hugged it to herself protectively. "If we're shopping for clothes, why can't I buy one for myself?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows incredulously when she looked at the price tag. "I don't know Anna. This is a lot of money, even for us…and especially for you."

"Excuse me?" She said, pouting.

"Anna, how many dresses have you ruined in this month alone?"

"Well excuse me for dating a guy who likes to go hiking in the woods!" Anna answered. She walked over to the sled, dropping the dress into the bag with the rest of their stuff. She turned her attention away from the bag to smile at her sister. "You should buy one too Elsa."

"Why would I?" Elsa answered, shrugging. "I can make one out of ice. In fact, I could make one that looks just like that."

"I actually tried that once, remember?"

"Uh…no," Elsa answered.

Anna smiled sheepishly. "Oh, I never did tell you, did I? Well, I sort of snuck into your room and tried some of your stuff on."

"Anna! When was this?"

"Remember when I got that really bad cold that lasted, like, a week?"

"Yes…"

"That was because, the day before that, while you were at that two-hour long meeting I was trying on all of your ice stuff. It looked really nice on me!"

Elsa began rubbing her temples. "Anna, what could have possibly made you think—wait." Elsa's mouth opened slightly in surprise. "Anna, why is the bag _moving_?"

Sure enough, their bag seemed to be moving slightly. Anna eyed it sideways, not sure whether she should go near it or not…when a small, pink face popped out. It oinked at Anna happily.

"Oh," Anna breathed in relief. "Elsa, you know Anders, the little boy whose parents own the bakery? I think this is his pet pig Norm." She pat it on the head. "He's always running away and getting into trouble. He's so cute though, isn't he?"

Elsa smiled a little, bringing a hand up to her mouth—Norm _was_ cute—but almost as soon as she did that she looked shocked again. "Anna, grab him." Elsa said evenly.

"What? Why?"

"Anna, he just grabbed the—"

As though he could understand what they were saying, Norm hopped off of the sled and scampered down the street—the dress Anna had just picked out hanging from his mouth and trailing behind him.

"THE DRESS!" Anna cried. She turned to her sister. "Elsa, we didn't pay for that yet!"

Without hesitation, Elsa jumped into the sled, pulling Anna beside her. They looked at each other, then back on the retreating pig, and at the same time shouted:

"HALT YOU SWINE!"

Elsa snapped the reigns, Sven barreling down the road after Norm. They almost collided with a cart full of vegetables, narrowly missing it but still knocking it over in the process.

"Sorry!" Elsa shouted as they sped by.

"Elsa, maybe I should take the reigns.

"Why should you take the reigns? I'm perfectly capable of—SVEN, TURN RIGHT, TURN RIGHT!—doing this myself."

"I ride with Kristoff all the time!"

"Anna, didn't you set the sled on fire once?"

"At least I never CRASHED IT INTO A WALL," Anna deadpanned.

"Wha…? SVEN, TURN LEFT!" Elsa shouted, yanking the reigns. Distracted by Anna, Elsa only registered the direction the pig was running in—not the fact that he had wriggled through a hole in the brick wall they were about to collide with. The sled leaned to the side due to the suddenness of the turn, and Anna, Elsa, and the rest of their clothes toppled over into the dirt.

"Don't just sit there Elsa!" Anna said, pulling her up. "Norm went this way! We need to go after him!"

The pig, who must have felt like he was a safe distance away, had stopped and began chewing on the dress like a dog chewing a bone.

"Okay Anna, I have an idea. I'm going to use my ice magic."

"Elsa, you can't do that!" Anna gasped. "He's Ander's pet. What if you hurt him?"

"I'm not going to hurt him," Elsa assured her. "Just…okay, give me a second." She concentrated. With a blast of magic the part of the dress hanging out of Norm's mouth was frozen to the ground. The pig pulled at it for a few moments before giving up and trotting away, bored.

"You did it!" Anna said happily, running over to pry the dress off the ground. She cradled it in her arms. "Well, it's covered in dirt and pig slobber now…"

"I knew I couldn't trust you with that dress," Elsa said, smiling and putting a hand on Anna's shoulder.

"It's not like I could have known a pig had snuck into the bag!" Then she smiled knowingly. "Not to mention, I think you ruined far more dresses than I did." Anna finished, looking over her shoulder. Elsa turned around and realized that all of the clothing they had bought was now scattered around the road; some of it had even fallen into the ocean.

"I…I mean...that was not my fault…" Elsa stammered.

"You were the one that insisted on driving the sled," Anna pointed out.

Elsa glared at her. "Let's just go home."

* * *

Michelle and Eleanor stood in front of the cast, grinning.

"Okay everyone," Michelle said, "As soon as Elsa and Anna get back, we can start trying on costumes for the show."

"This is so exciting!" Eleanor whispered to her sister, "You think maybe they'll let us—"

She stopped; the doors to the ballroom opened. Anna stepped out first; covered in mud, twigs in her hair, but smiling.

"Anna, what happened to you?" Eleanor asked. "…And where's the clothes?"

Anna looked over her shoulder. "Elsa, hurry up!"

Elsa finally walked in, looking almost worse than her sister. She wore a deep frown, her brow furrowed. In her arms she carried a wadded up bundle of damp, dirt covered dresses and shirts.

"Elsa, are you okay?" Michelle asked. "And are those…?"

Elsa threw them in the director's arms. "Please don't ask." Elsa answered.

"But why—"

"Do. Not. _Ask_." Elsa said again. "Now if you'll excuse me, Anna and I need to get cleaned up."

Anna mouthed 'tell you later' to Eleanor before being led out of the room.


	24. Erik Gets Punched for Honor

"Alright everyone, costumes ready, come on!" Michelle shouted, gesturing wildly in the air, directing people to different parts of the ballroom as she saw fit. "We need to try these things on quick, I want to at least start a run-through of act two today."

The rehearsal space was a whirlwind of excitement; clothes were being thrown in the air as people tossed them away to try on new ones. As Michelle was walking over to where the people playing the trolls were getting ready, one of those flying shirts landed on her head.

"What the…?" She clawed at the fabric, pulling it off of her and letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled ball. She turned around and saw Erik.

"Sorry," he said genially, "That's mine. What do you think?" He spread his arms out, grinning. He wore a grandiloquent white jacket, covered with buttons and tassels, with a navy blue silk shirt and pants of a matching color. His hair, as black as coal, was parted to the right and slicked down with gel so it gleamed; he rubbed his neatly trimmed beard nervously as he waited for what she would say.

"Anna, come over here," Michelle said, gesturing at the red head.

"Yeah?"

"Does he look like Hans?" Michelle asked.

Anna crossed her arms, tilting her head to one side and squinting. "Well, his hair is different, and Hans didn't have a beard," Anna finally said, "But looking at him _doe_s make me want to punch him in the face."

"So it's a success?"

"It's a success!" Anna gave Erik a thumbs up.

"It was always my dream to have a Princess want to punch me in the face," Erik said with mock sincerity, hoping it would prompt a laugh, an insult-anything. Anna, smiled, but Michelle didn't seem to hear him, or else she pretended not to.

Ever since Michelle had vowed to be nicer to the cast, she had taken to ignoring him. All director's notes were given through Eleanor; instead of addressing him when she blocked scenes she would say 'Hans goes here' or 'Hans does this' and he would follow. Erik almost missed the way it had been at first, with her hectoring him and slapping him in the face. She was unpleasant toward him then, but at least she was _something _toward him.

Erik's jaw clenched in determination; he was not giving up easily. "Of course I came close before," Erik continued, "Getting slapped in the face by her friend."

Michelle just walked away; or more like ran. At first Erik was insulted until Anna followed, and he realized that it wasn't to get away from him. Someone across the room was shouting:

"I am NOT wearing this!"

"What is going on?" Michelle asked running over and putting her hands up. "What's the problem?"

The actor, who was playing Pabbie, shook the costume in her face angrily. "I'll look ridiculous! It looks like you're hanging a chunk of green carpet around my neck! And I heard you want to cover me in _war paint_?"

"Not just you," Michelle explained exasperatedly, "All the trolls need to dress like that."

"I'm not doing it," He answered, throwing the costume to the floor.

"Listen, if you could just try it—"

"I won't do it," he said again, "I'll be a laughing stock."

Erik edged a little closer. He could see Michelle digging her thumb into the palm of her hand—she had lost her patience. "You will listen very closely," Michelle answered. "The man playing the Duke is getting a toupee fitted on his head and it will fall off his head during the ballroom scene—"

"That was my idea!" Eleanor interjected, having walked over with Anna and Elsa when they saw the guy screaming in her face.

"—Olaf will be doing a dumb tap-dance number," Michelle continued, gritting her teeth, "One man is dressing up as a reindeer. A _reindeer_. And none of them have complained. So you will shut your mouth, sling that 'carpet' back around your neck, and _get your makeup done like a man_."

She stamped her foot angrily, crossing her arms. The man stared down at her. They had him doubling as Oaken, so he was massive, towering over her.

"Really? And what are you going to do about it?"

"I won't let you go anywhere," Michelle said, staring up at him defiantly. She would look back at it as one of the stupidest things she'd ever done, but now she didn't care. "Now try on your costume."

The actor tried to leave, and that was when he put his hand on Michelle's chest and pushed her out of the way roughly.

To Erik it didn't matter that Michelle wasn't hurt, only falling on the ground and getting dazed for a moment. It didn't matter that she was surrounded by people, including Elsa, who was far more able than he to protect her. It didn't even matter that he was a good ten yards away. One second he was watching, and the next he…woke up with someone holding steak over his face.

"Linus…?" Erik groaned, seeing the large blond man, still wearing his mountaineering costume as Kristoff. "What happened?"

Linus looked down at him with concern. "When that man shoved Michelle, I believe you tried to punch him."

"_Tried_?"

"You missed and he knocked you out with a punch to the eye. It will probably blacken…"

Erik's face burned with embarrassment. He scanned the room, noticing that the people had left. They must have cleared out after the 'incident'. That is, until he realized Michelle was standing a few feet away, looking restive.

"Where did the other girls go?" He asked.

"They arrested him. It takes all three of them to hold him down." Linus answered.

"Why did you…" He realized Michelle probably wouldn't answer, "Why did Michelle stay?"

"I don't know…she only said that I should stay until you woke up." He looked at Michelle for confirmation, and she nodded stiffly.

"I wanted to ask you if you knew anyone else who could play your dad," Michelle answered.

"I could go ask my father to do it himself," He answered, "He could do it for at least one night, until you find someone else. That could work, yes?"

"That could work," Michelle said, looking distracted. "You should go do that."

Linus nodded placidly, leaving, looking over his shoulder to wish Erik a speedy recovery. Michelle didn't even tell him to change out of his costume first. Erik smiled weakly. He could already feel a splitting headache building up.

Erik lay on the floor, propping himself up on his elbows. Michelle looked at him, and then slowly sat down next to him, deciding that she didn't like making eye contact. She looked as pale as his white jacket. The roaring, deafening silence became unbearable.

"It's not your fault you know," Erik said, "That I did something stupid."

Michelle risked a curt nod. Erik realized what she was doing; she still wasn't talking to him—maybe she couldn't bring herself to do it-but staying, sitting next to him was her way of saying thank you.

"You know what it reminded me of?" Erik continued. "It reminded me of when we first met and I tackled that kid from behind. Except I won that one."

He took note of the subtle raising of her eyebrows, signifying that she was listening.

"I always thought about you when I left," He blurted out, then mentally smacked himself. "I mean, about how you and Eleanor were doing. I even wrote you a letter begging you to let me come back because I felt so guilty."

Michelle stopped avoiding his eyes now; she looked at him with what could only be described as utter confusion.

"Strangest thing was, I could never find your address," Erik continued. He laughed, starting to relax a little. "How I never heard about you working as…I don't know what you'd be called…_Grand Entertainment Viziers_ for the Queen of Arendelle, I'll never know."

Michelle realized that Erik didn't know, nor did the rest of the cast, about the exact details of how they came to start living in the castle or for how long. Erik watched her as she opened her mouth to say something; then she closed it, biting her lower lip. She seemed to be quite conflicted until she looked away from him again. Erik deflated a little. He actually thought she'd say something that time…

"Ottoman Empire," She muttered, causing Erik to stare at her in awe.

"What?" He asked softly.

"Vizier is a title used in the Middle East," Michelle said, "In the Ottoman Empire. If anything we'd be the Grand Entertainment _Advisors_, if we had a ridiculous title like that in the first place."

A warm smile spread across Erik's face.

"Don't look at me like that," Michelle huffed, "You know I can't help correcting people. I still hate you." But she said it without any emotion, like a mantra. Erik didn't believe it anymore.

"Well, thank you anyway," Erik answered. "I don't know how I survived without knowing Viziers are part of the Otto-whatever."

"Ottoman Empire,"

"Right."

"You shouldn't have done anything, you idiot," Michelle snapped. It seemed the brief exchange they had now opened the floodgates. She couldn't stop herself. "Elsa was right next to me. She could have turned him into an icicle in two seconds. But no, you had to try and be the hero. Did you actually think you would win? He flattened you. When he hit you I thought…" Her voice trailed off.

"Michelle…I was…I mean…I was defending your honor!" Erik settled on saying. He watched nervously for her answer.

What he got wasn't want he expected. Michelle started laughing. "I'm sorry—well, not really, but you know what I mean. It's just—the way you said it. And, I mean, the fact that it worked out _so_ well. Every man in Arendelle is going to be afraid to come near me once they here about what you did to the last guy who 'dishonored me'." She settled down, smirking at him. "I can't believe I thought you were smart when we were kids."

"Well, I can't believe I thought your laugh was pretty when we were kids," He retorted. "You sound like a horse neighing."

The banter would have continued if not for Eleanor returning, looking exhausted.

"I mean, first he wants to leave, then he fights us when we try to take him outside!" Eleanor complained. "It's a good thing Elsa thought of freezing his hands together—what are you guys doing?" Eleanor asked curiously, looking at the two on the floor. Without realizing it, Michelle had moved closer to Erik. Their shoulders were almost touching. When t dawned on her she got up as calmly as she could.

"I was checking to see how bad the swelling was on his eye," Michelle answered. "And he looks horrible."

Erik put the raw steak back on his face. "And you look _radiant_ as always," he answered, "I'll see myself out in a few minutes. Good night girls."

"Good night!" Eleanor answered, waving excitedly as they walked away. She turned on her sister.

"Well…?" Eleanor asked, leaning in.

"What?"

"He was being sarcastic!" Eleanor said. "And you guys were only sarcastic to each other when you were still friends."

"We are not friends," Michelle answered flatly, "Leave me alone."

But Eleanor just looked at Michelle with a cheesy, knowing grin the rest of the night. It wasn't even that Eleanor didn't believe her; it was teasing, like sisters did. It was only when Eleanor jokingly asked if Elsa and Anna wanted to be bridesmaids at dinner and Michelle stormed off to her room that Eleanor started to really get suspicious.

"To quote something Michelle would know," Eleanor said to the two sisters raising her voice, "'Methinks thou dost protest too much'."

Michelle opened the door after a moment; she couldn't help herself. "It's 'the lady doth protest too much methinks!'" She called down, and then retreated back into her room, where she'd stay without a word the rest of the night.

Even Elsa couldn't help erupting into a fit of giggles with the other two when they debated over the pros and cons of a June wedding.


	25. A Permanent Position

Michelle couldn't have been more proud of how far the cast had come. In just six short weeks they went from not having any idea of what they were doing to actually being able to get through the show with all of their lines memorized.

Oh, of course there were problems, but fixable ones. Brigitta was still sometimes too quiet on stage; but when she found the right balance, Michelle found that she had a voice that was not necessarily loud, but so captivating in its complexities that an audience couldn't help but be quiet and make themselves hear her.

When she brought this up, Brigitta was almost in tears as she hugged her. "Thank you so much!" She cried, "I can't believe just three weeks ago you were throwing books at me!"

Heidi's voice was just gut wrenchingly awesome in Let It Go. It was during one rendition that Heidi, having had trouble hearing the music at one point, wasn't able to catch the note at the end—so she just belted it as loud and high as she could go.

"Oh. My. God." Eleanor breathed. "Heidi that was like, a million keys higher than the note was supposed to be."

"It was? I'm so sorry! I'll try and do it right next time, I lost the music for a second so I messed up and I was like 'I guess I'll just make something up and hope it's right—'"

"Why are you apologizing?" Eleanor gasped, "The only reason I didn't make the note that high was because I didn't think it was humanly possible!" The music was quickly changed to a higher key and to everyone's amazement, Heidi was actually able to hit that note consistently.

Even Linus had improved. Whatever small amount of singing he had in the show was wonderful, and he proved to have the makings of a great straight man to Brigitta's awkwardness. Erik had succeeded in (somewhat) curbing his accent.

"Michelle!" Erik shouted one day, "Listen to Linus! Linus, where does the rain fall?"

"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." He said, in a slightly less thick accent than usual. "Is that better Michelle?"

"Definitely better," Michelle said, nodding. "What do you think Eleanor?"

Eleanor put a hand to her chin. "I liked his accent," She said thoughtfully after a moment. "It's cute."

"Cute?" Anna said teasingly, nudging her friend in the ribs. "You like him Elle?"

"Yeah," Eleanor said plainly, and Anna was quite shocked.

_"Really?"_

"I'm marrying him right after I marry Erik," Eleanor finished, flashing Anna a wicked grin and eliciting a laugh from Michelle. "…Of course, Michelle and I would need to share Erik, right Chelly?"

Michelle's laughter stopped almost immediately. "Shut up."

Erik, of course, was doing an excellent job. Later, when he leaned down and gently cupped Brigitta's face, whispering 'If only there was someone who loved you', Michelle had to suppress a shiver of discomfort. It was _chilling_.

"Are you sure that the whole 'Hans is evil' plot point isn't a little forced?" Elsa asked her as she watched them go over the scene.

"How so?" Michelle asked.

"Well, he really doesn't give any indication of it before this…"

Michelle seemed to be deep in thought, trying to find the best way to articulate her explanation. "Most of the show is from Anna's point of view. To Anna, the realization that Hans is evil does happen without any indication."

"So this was an artistic decision?" Elsa asked, nodding in understanding.

"No," Michelle admitted, her face draining slightly of color. "But at this point the only thing we can do is justify it when people point it out."

Elsa noticed that her friend had been on edge lately, but in a different way than she had been when she was raging and screaming at the cast. She became quiet, more withdrawn; she ate considerably less than usual.

"…Michelle," Elsa said gently, "Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

Michelle bit her lower lip; on the stage, Erik grabbed a sword and prepared to deliver a speech to a hysterical Heidi.

"It's just—Erik, sound less villainous, remember Heidi doesn't know you're evil yet—" Michelle interrupted herself, calling at the stage, then returned her attention to the queen. "It's just…I keep watching this, and the more I watch it, the more flaws I see. I keep wishing I could rewrite the show and fix it, but there's no time."

"Michelle, the show is great," Elsa answered. And then a beat later, "And once this one is over, you can write another for us that will be even better."

"Another for you?" Michelle repeated, puzzled.

"Yes…I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." Elsa said. "Anna and I have been discussing it, and we've decided we want to offer you a permanent position on our staff."

"A permanent position?" She repeated again dumbly.

"Yes," Elsa said, nodding sagely. "You've shown me how important the arts can be in someone's life and I think it's important to be part of spreading that to the people of Arendelle…and we want you and Eleanor to spearhead the effort."

Michelle's hands rested on her arms lightly, as though the room had suddenly become chilly. "Grand Entertainment Viziers…" She said to herself softly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Elsa, are you sure?" Michelle asked. "Us living here and all we need to do is put on shows?"

"_All you need_? Michelle, surely you can't think I found this process easy. And how could Anna and I allow you two to go back on the streets?"

Michelle's jaw clenched; so that was it. She was offering her the job out of guilt. "You aren't obligated to help us," she answered, "Eleanor and I can take care of ourselves."

Elsa's hand rested lightly on Michelle's shoulder; only a few short months ago only Eleanor would have been allowed such a friendly gesture without Michelle pulling away. Now she only looked down at the hand with mild surprise.

"Of course we're not obligated," Elsa said softly, "Michelle, I want to help you because you're my _friend_."

Being homeless and being a woman made Michelle and Eleanor prime targets for coercion; people tried to take advantage of them all the time. Michelle had grown to be a bit of an expert at spotting the subtle twitch of the eyebrow, the hesitant eye contact, or the most minute of hand gestures that indicated that someone wasn't being genuine.

Elsa was not one of those people.

For someone who prided herself on keeping her emotions in check, Michelle had never realized just how sensitive she really was.

"…Thank you," Michelle finally answered. She smiled. "Eleanor will go _insane_ when I tell her."

"There's no need," Elsa said, chuckling. "We both wanted to give you the news, so we decided to tell each of you separately. Anna is telling Eleanor as we speak."

Michelle was at a loss for words. Throughout this entire experience there was that elephant in the room, the knowledge that once it was over their future was uncertain. Michelle would sometimes be haunted by the thought of Eleanor's now slightly chubby frame dwindling back down to what it was before…

But it didn't matter now. She had finally done it. She'd given her sister a home.

On stage, a blue light that surrounded Brigitta shut off, signifying that she had been unfrozen. She stood in shock for a moment, before she collapsed into Heidi's arms in a tearful reunion. Elsa clapped, tears in her own eyes.

"It's a beautiful scene," She murmured.

"That's not even the best part," Michelle answered. And when Brigitta got back up, walking over to a very shocked and disoriented Erik and punched him as hard as she could in the face, her applause could be heard the loudest out of anyone in the room.


	26. A Change of Title

"So Michelle, apparently you've gotten mail," Elsa said the next day at breakfast.

Michelle hastily swallowed the bite of egg in her mouth. "A letter to us? Are you sure?"

"It is addressed to a 'Ms. Belmonte, Senior'. I assume it's you."

"Hey Michelle, it's fanmail!" Eleanor gave her a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. Michelle frowned.

"We aren't opening for another three days. Why would we be getting fanmail?"

Anna took the letter from Elsa, reading the print on the envelope. "It's from really far away too. The address says this was sent all the way from _Denmark_."

"Denmark? How did they even hear about us?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Michelle, you haven't even left the castle walls since you started living here, have you? The news of this show is spreading like wildfire. People write to relatives, they start talking—this doesn't surprise me at all."

Michelle held out her hand. "Anna, give it here. Who sent it?"

Anna gave her the envelope. The name on the front read _Hans Christian Andersen_.

"I think I recognize that name!" Eleanor said, reading over Michelle's shoulder, "I mean, vaguely. But I think he's written stuff."

"I do too." Michelle ran her finger along the parchment carefully, trying to avoid a paper cut, and then removed the letter from the envelope. "Might as well see what it says."

The other three watched her. Almost immediately Michelle began frowning, deep wrinkles appearing in her forehead. Her mouth opened a little in shock.

"Oh. My. God." She gasped indignantly, "The nerve of this man is astounding."

"What did he say?" Eleanor asked.

"He's claiming we stole his idea!" Michelle shouted. She lost her temper, crumpling up the letter and throwing it onto the table. "Apparently he wrote a short story called 'The Snow Queen.' He even enclosed a copy of it for us. He is _demanding_ we change the name of our show and give him credit."

Elsa grabbed the paper, smoothing it out on the mahogany tabletop.

"…What do we do now?" Anna asked.

"I guess we read the story and see how similar it really is." Elsa answered. "Michelle, you're not going to solve this problem by muttering curses under your breath."

Michelle glared at the queen, but finally uncrossed her arms and walked to her side of the table, to read over her shoulder. Eleanor followed suit.

"Absolutely ridiculous," Michelle mumbled under her breath, "Accusing me…do you realize that this is the ultimate insult? I do not steal my ideas!"

"We know you don't," Anna said gently, patting her on the arm, "I mean, how could you? You wrote about something that actually happened."

The group fell silent and began reading; there was no sound except for the rustling of paper as Elsa flipped pages. Michelle seethed quietly, and Eleanor mouthed the words as she read.

They stayed that way for twenty minutes. It was Eleanor who finally broke the silence.

"…Well, that guy is delusional."

Michelle looked at her. "You think so?" She asked with relief.

"Of course he is!" Anna interjected. "This was nothing like what happened to us."

"I don't know," Elsa said, pursing her lips in thought, "I can see where he's coming from. I mean, both of our stories have trolls. We might as well have hired him to write for us."

The four began to laugh, relieved that there was no danger of them being accused of plagiarism.

"But hey, don't forget, we both have people with ice powers in our stories," Eleanor warned.

"Yeah," Michelle said, smiling, "Elsa, you guys are practically _twins_."

"And of course, I'm sure I looked at a mirror at _some_ point." Anna finished, "I mean, it didn't turn me into an evil, twisted version of myself, but still. We really need to think about rewriting, huh?"

Michelle went back to being serious almost as quickly as she had started laughing. "I don't think we have a problem; this Andersen guy doesn't have a leg to stand on, does he? You'd need to be an idiot to think this was based off of his story. And like you said Anna—any similarities need to be a coincidence because this _actually happened_."

"So, are we just going to forget about it then?" Eleanor asked.

Michelle sighed. "I didn't say that. While I don't think the plot is a problem—this does bring up an issue with the name. As much as I love 'The Snow Queen', I'm afraid people who've read this will assume that ours is an adaptation and be thrown off."

"So we just change the name then?" Eleanor answered.

"Yes. We change the name."

"That's easy enough! We'll just call it…maybe…." Eleanor looked disconcerted.

"Uh…well, this shouldn't be that hard…." Elsa said. "I mean…there are plenty of other titles that work…isn't there?"

Michelle watched as the three slowly sat down, all holding their heads in frustration as they concentrated on thinking of a new title. She sighed.

"This may be a problem."

* * *

Considering that the four of them were entirely out of ideas, it was decided that the best thing they could do was call a cast meeting. A piece of paper was stuck to the wall, and Michelle stood next to it, pen in hand.

"Okay everyone, we need a new title," Michelle said, "Don't ask why, we just do. Any ideas?"

Heidi raised her hand. "Uh…'Race to North Mountain'?"

Michelle wrote it down. "I don't really like that one, but okay. Anyone else?"

"A Tale of Two Sisters!"

"The Snow Sisters!"

"The True Story of The Great Thaw?"

Michelle wrote them all down. "Guys, these are too long. Come on! Use some collective brain power here!"

"What she means is," Elsa interjected, "Is that we have only three days to change all of the promotional material. We need to find something today."

Brigitta raised her hand hesitantly. "Um…how about 'Iced'? Because, I don't know, there's a lot of ice?"

Anna looked at Michelle. "I like that one, actually." She took the pen from the writer, wrote it down, circling it. "This will be our title unless anyone thinks of something better."

"If I can make a suggestion," Erik said, "How about 'Frozen'? Doesn't the cast begin with the cast all chanting some sort of ice harvesting song from offstage called 'Frozen Heart'?"

Michelle looked at him. "Frozen," She said slowly. "Frozen. I actually like that. Has a nice ring to it."

"And it can have multiple meanings. Anna's frozen heart, Elsa's ice, her frigid relationship with Anna-pardon the pun."

The rest of the cast all nodded in agreement.

"As loathe as I am to agree with Erik," Michelle said, smiling, "I believe he actually had a good idea." She put a check mark next to the name.

"We need to replace over a hundred flyers distributed throughout the kingdom," Elsa groaned, "Anna, you'll need to come with me."

"Out of curiosity," Erik said, getting up, "Why _did_ you need to change the title Michelle?"

Michelle told him about the strange letter. "…And he also is insisting we give him credit," She finished, "Or else he'll show up and cause a scene or something. I don't know."

Erik grinned. "I have an idea." He walked over to Anna. "When you change those posters and what not, why don't you just put underneath something like 'Marginally Related to The Snow Queen'. That way he gets the 'credit' and you've made your point."

Anna smiled at her sister. "What do you think of that Elsa?"

"I think it's brilliant." Elsa answered.

"Anything to annoy him," Eleanor added.

"I hope he comes," Michelle said, "I'd have a few choice words for him…Frozen being based of The Snow Queen…obviously he didn't bother to check into what our story was about."

Erik put a hand on Michelle's shoulder; she glared at him. He let go. "I was just going to say, three days until opening night," Erik said, flustered. "Can you believe it?"

"No." She said curtly. "I can't."

"You're going to do an excellent job."

Michelle looked at him. "No, you are. I'll just be watching from the audience."

"I suppose that's true." He walked away to join the rest of the cast in vocal warm ups.

"And for the record," He said with a sudden burst of courage, looking over his shoulder, "I'm dedicating 'Love is an Open Door' to you opening night."

"Idiot," Michelle muttered under her breath—though for the first time she didn't have the urge to give him a death glare. "Come on Eleanor, we have to watch."


	27. Opening Night Part 1

"You're really telling me you've never worn a dress to an opening night before?" Elsa asked, watching Michelle as servants measured her in front of a mirror.

"Never," She answered, "I never had the money. And the theatre companies weren't going to buy one for me." The truth was that Michelle usually sat in the back, leaving the theatre quietly when the show was over—the playwright was known to never show her face. What people didn't know was that it was because she was embarrassed to.

She'd spent the last few hours being handled by a team of servants, at Elsa and Anna's insistence. Currently several were smearing some sort of powder on her face while others were putting the finishing touches on her hair.

"You'll love your dress," Elsa answered.

"I'm sure I would, once these people get out of my face." One servant held up lipstick silently, and Michelle pursed her lips to allow him to apply it.

"Okay," He said, "We'll step out of the way so that you can see yourself in the mirror."

Michelle took a breath in when she saw herself. She ran a hand down her side, feeling the golden fabric. "It's gorgeous," She breathed, "I have to admit I can't even recognize myself. What time is it?"

Elsa glanced up to look at the clock in the corner of her room. "Almost seven thirty?"

"Seven? Curtain call was six! Elsa, when I agreed to let you dress me for opening night you promised they would be finished in time for us to get to the theatre—"

"The show starts at eight Michelle," Elsa pointed out. She got off of her bed, walking toward the door. "We'll still have time. The theatre is only a short walk from here."

"Unprofessional," She grumbled, grabbing her purse and leaving, "I told them to show up at six, I should be there…it really took them two hours to get me ready?" She bumped into one of the servants on her way out the door.

She looked at him for a moment. "…The dress is lovely," She said, feeling a bit guilty for complaining, one hand resting on the door knob. "Thank you for helping me get ready."

She held up the bottom of her dress with one hand, bolting out the door before the man had time to respond.

The Crocus Theatre was the largest theatre in the kingdom of Arendelle—which didn't actually mean much on the face of it, since Arendelle was such a small kingdom that The Crocus was the only large theatre. Still, it was an impressive size, and by far the most beautiful theatre Michelle had ever worked in.

Michelle and Elsa entered through the back door, entering the spacious backstage area. The rest of the cast, already in costumes and makeup, waited patiently in a circle. Eleanor grinned and waved them over.

"Hey guys!" She called out, "I made them wait for you. Erik said we should give a pep talk before the show."

"Eleanor," Michelle gasped, "You did your hair!"

Her hair, which was normally a completely wild, tangled mess, had somehow been tamed through a combination of hair creams and brushes. For the first time in her life, she even had it styled; two braids circled the top of her head, and were tied together in the back.

"It took five servants and me to do it." Anna said proudly, "But we got it done!"

Michelle gave Anna a nod to acknowledge that she had heard her; then she fought the urge to roll up the sleeves of her dress. If they wanted a pep talk she was going to do her best to give one.

"Um…" That was, if she knew what to say. "Erik, what did you normally do before a show…Erik?"

He seemed to be startled. After looking away from her for a moment, Erik stammered something out about saying a prayer. Not feeling up to questioning him, she decided to ignore the odd behavior.

"Then we should pray."

"Join hands?" Elsa suggested. "In a circle perhaps?"

"Oh. Sure." She inserted herself into the circle of people, Eleanor and Anna joining in.

"Who wants to start?" Michelle asked.

"Me!" Anna answered quickly, "I want to try it." She closed her eyes, and the rest of the cast followed. Anna didn't say anything for a moment.

"Bless us oh Lord…for these our gifts…which we are about to receive…from thy bounty…through Christ our Lord…"

Everyone opened their eyes, staring at the princess quizzically. Anna opened one eye, glancing at everyone's faces before finishing with a sheepish, "…Amen?"

"Anna," Elsa said, "That was the grace before meals. Why would you recite the grace before meals?"

"I—I volunteered too quickly, and I didn't remember any other ones!" Anna said, blushing in embarrassment before adding indignantly, "And who cares? It's still a prayer isn't it?"

Michelle cleared her throat loudly before Elsa could argue. "Thank you Anna," She said. "On my part…I mean, we already prayed, so I suppose I'll just say a few words? This has been…the greatest experience of my life. Also the most difficult. 'Social interaction' is not a talent that was bestowed upon me at birth, unfortunately, and lord knows that ended up being a problem that this show has forced me to work on."

She stopped for a moment, allowing everyone their opportunity to laugh, before adding thoughtfully, "Not _solve_, but certainly _work on._ You've all been inspiring, and it has been an honor being your director. And I know you'll all be just as inspiring to the audience. So just…just do your best. That's all." The cast smiled warmly in response.

Michelle looked at her sister. "Anything to add?"

Eleanor pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment before grinning. "You'll all be awesome, let's do this!"

The cast cheered, and dispersed to begin the final preparations before the show. Michelle smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Very good Eleanor," Elsa said, "If a _bit_ long winded."

"I thought it was good," Eleanor answered, "What did you think Erik?" She asked, as the actor walked past her.

"Right," He said, not really paying attention. Michelle grabbed him by the arm.

"You seem a bit distracted." She said.

"Of course not." He said, not quite making eye contact.

"Not nervous are you?" Michelle asked with a smirk, "The great Shakespearean actor isn't getting stage fright?"

"I am not!" Erik protested indignantly, "It's just…" He looked back and forth at the other three who were watching. He finally leaned in close to whisper so only she could hear.

"I've never seen you in a dress." Before Michelle could respond he got out as quickly as he could.

"What did he say?" Elsa asked.

"He—I don't—he was nervous," She finally answered—which, she reasoned, wasn't _really_ a lie. "And he didn't want to admit it. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"He doesn't seem like he—" Anna started.

"—Hey Anna, you know that huge chandelier in the middle of the ceiling?" Eleanor questioned loudly, glancing at her sister, "What do you think would happen if it just _fell_ or something?"

Michelle looked at Eleanor, smiling in appreciation when she realized the purpose of her non sequiteur. Anna's mouth hung open slightly. "I don't know. It would probably look really cool though, wouldn't it? The glass shattering and everything? Hey Michelle, maybe you could write that in one of your next shows—"

"I don't think that's possible," Michelle answered. "Besides, no offense Anna, but a chandelier falling in the middle of a show is kind of ridiculous."

"Even if it would look awesome?"

"Even if it would look awesome."

Anna shrugged. "I think it's a good idea…" She grumbled, but dropped it nonetheless.

"We should go take our seats," Elsa said. "Good luck Michelle."

She took Anna by the hand, leading her out.

Michelle looked at her sister. "Thank you for stopping that conversation."

Eleanor pulled her sister in for a hug. "Hey, this is your night. I wasn't going to make you face awkward questions on your night."

"Thank you sis."

"Tomorrow I'm going back to making fun of you mercilessly though." She said, nudging her shoulder with her own.

"I'll try to enjoy it now then." Michelle answered dryly. She laced her fingers together; she took a deep, nervous breath. This was it.

"Show time."


End file.
